The Many Harry Potters of Little Hangleton
by VivyPotter
Summary: Also known as 'Harry and Voldemort Explore Fanfiction Tropes Together'. Different Harry Potters visit Little Hangleton, and Voldemort's the only one with much sense around here. I almost feel sorry for him. Includes Slytherin!Harry, Fem!Harry, Plothole!Harry, Flamboyant!Harry, Joker!Harry, Dark!Harry and more.
1. Plothole Harry

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything and all rights go to JK!**

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**A plot-hole-pointing-out Harry visits the graveyard and Voldemort has issues with planning evil schemes.**

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"Why are you calling Pettigrew by his nickname?" Harry asked the Dark Lord. He had enough information by now to realise that the man who tried to kill him very year was making another attempt – and right on time! "I mean, I know who he is. It's really obvious. So why are you acting like you have to conceal his identity? He's not even wearing a mask!"

"I-" Wormtail began to speak, but Harry didn't let him finish.

"-Are you calling him by his old school nickname for fun? Just call him by his name! Do all of your death eaters have code names or something?"

"Lucius, why did you not attempt to seek out your master? The Lestranges-"

"And why are you _naming_ your death eaters? Aren't their identities supposed to be top secret? Isn't there some kind of 'each death eater only knows one other death eater' thing? I mean, that's why they weren't all rounded up after the first war, isn't it? _Now_, if one person squeals – and I doubt these cowardly little worms' ability to keep a secret, if it means they can save their own necks – then you'll have literally _no_ followers. Also, let's face statistics; it's _highly_ likely that I'm going to get out of here, and now I know the identity of each and every one your death eaters!"

"But that's the point Potter- you won't escape this time!"

"Yeah, I will." Harry said, disparagingly.

"No you wo-"

"Actually, now I think about it – why wasn't I here sooner?" Harry gestured to his surroundings.

"What do you mean, Potter? This was the soonest I could get you here and still enact my GENIUS evil plan for my resurec-"

"Yeeeahhhh…" Harry rolled his eyes and tilted his head to one side. "But it wasn't."

"Explain." Voldemort demanded, looking rather put-out.

"Well, in order to bewitch the Triwizard cup, you had to have a secret agent in a figure of authority, probably Moody if you look at my track record for DADA teachers. Meaning there was no need for this elaborate plot, or the millions of holes in your apparent plan to bring me here, where it could have all gone pear-shaped."

"What holes?" Voldemort shrieked. "My plan was fool-proof!"

"Your whole plan depended on a fourteen year old boy being able to get past challenges that caused even legal adults to struggle! Even if I do 'supposedly' have a lot of power for my age, that's not a very secure plot! Couldn't your agent just have knocked me out at any point and brought me to you? Just a simply stupefy and a short walk to outside the wards and – _bam!_ – you've got me!"

"I-"

"You didn't even need to have an inside man! All Wormtail needed to do was use his animagus form to sneak inside the school and kidnap me! This could all have been over on the first night of school."

The pale face of Lord Voldemort was steadily turning a lovely shade of crimson.

"And that's not even the first place where your plan's a little shaky. I mean, this whole charade depends a lot upon the phrase 'unwillingly given'. If I had just said, 'Here, have some blood!' you would've been _so_ screwed. Also-"

"Potter! Just go!"

"Wha-"

"Take the portkey and just _leave_!"

"But-"

"Please!" Voldemort had his eyes closed and Harry could have sworn he was about to cry. The Boy-Who-Lived-To-Frustrate-The-Dark-Lord shrugged helplessly and walked over to the abandoned cup. Harry glanced over to check if the Dark Lord had changed his mind, but Voldemort just shook his head and gestured for him to leave. Harry Potter picked up the cup and, when he felt the familiar jerking on his naval, he waving at Voldemort and called out, "See you next June! I mean you're so _predictable_-"

Voldemort's scream of frustration was the last thing Harry heard before he arrived at the beginning of the maze.

"Why have I appeared _here_?"


	2. Man-of-action Harry

**This one's a little more graphic...**

**Harry Potter, man of action, visits the graveyard and Voldemort gets the surprise of his life.**

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_"__Avada Kedavra!"_

Well Harry wasn't going to let that happen. Instantly focusing on Cedric (because he was obviously the spare, he was a Hufflepuff for goodness sake!), he banished the Triwizard cup towards the startled boy. Diggory grasped the handles of the portkey instinctively and, with a grunt, he was whisked away. The flash of green light impacted on the gravestone just a few metres away from where Harry stood. With a muffled _boom!_ the Unforgiveable shattered the weathered rock, allowing a light covering of dust to settle on the floor, like slightly macabre snow.

Harry spun towards his attacker, and instincts that had been carefully honed by three years of danger and a previous 10 years of abuse, kicked in. With a flick of his wand, a burst of red light hit the figure, causing the man to drop the bundle with a sickening crunch. Harry winced as he realised that sound was _awfully_ similar to that of bones breaking, something Harry was familiar with after his life with the Dursleys. Nevertheless, Harry didn't hesitate, and swiftly stunned the shadowed figure.

Harry crept over to the unconscious guy, nudging him with his foot. When the man - _Wormtail_, Harry realised – didn't react, Harry grew more confident and aimed a hard kick at Pettigrew's head. Remembering himself, Harry picked up the thing. He peered cautiously into the swathes of cloth. Spotting the veined, bulbous head of the creature, he flinched in shock and dropped the alien-baby. With an awful crunch, the baby's head impacted on the concrete base of a headstone and cracked like an egg. Harry crouched down, having to force down the bile that swelled to the back of his throat when he caught sight of the yellow-whitish _stuff_ that was pooling on the ground. With trembling knees, the Boy-Who-Lived stood up and looked around.

"Well that was easy."


	3. Lovegood Harry

**In which a far-too-Lovegood Harry visits the graveyard, and Lord Voldemort is infected by nargles.**

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"Kill the spare!"

The man shrieked and dropped the bundle of rags, as a flash of green light erupted from his wand, rushed past Harry and hit Cedric. The shrieking male flinched and examined his wand as if he'd never seen it before. His eyes were wide with awe as he inspected his weapon. Harry wasn't sure if he should ask if he was quite alright.

"Fool!" came the shriek. "You dunderhead! You insolent wretch! You should never have been born!"

Harry wondered if Professor Snape had a child.

Lost in his imaginings of a baby with a hooked nose and limp, greasy fluff on its sallow baby head, Harry barely noticed the man drag him towards a marble headstone, slam him against it and conjure tight rope to bind him. When he was finally snapped out of his imaginings by a slightly pathetic slap, he looked straight into the eyes of the betrayer of his parents…

And blinked.

"Oh, hullo." He said, in a vaguely surprised voice. "You again?"

Wormtail didn't reply, which Harry thought was awfully rude, but instead checked the tightness of the cords. Harry looked down and blinked once more. "Ah." He remarked. Wormtail gave him a smirk, clearly trying to be intimidating, which Harry found rather sad.

"That's not your look." Harry informed him, giving the unfortunate man a pitying look. "I'd go for a glazed-over stare, or a grovelling pout."

Wormtail was looked very bewildered.

"There- that's better!" Harry grinned cheerfully, quite proud of himself for this good deed.

"Enough idle chatter! Wormtail – prepare the ritual!" The high-pitched voice rang through the graveyard as clear as a bell.

"A ritual? For the nargles? Your friend's head is full of them." Harry nodded towards the bundle on the floor nearby. At first he listened with fascination to Wormtail' chant. However he was soon bored by the high drone of Peter Pettigrew, and it became a mere buzz in the background of his mind as he tried to figure out exactly how _many_ wizards it would take to levitate Hagrid over a fully grown dragon.

Harry was only brought back to reality when Wormtail used his knife – "I could get an infection from that, you know." – to cut a thin line down the Insane Saviour's arm. Harry watched with detached curiosity as the blood dripped from his wound into the glass phial. "What's that for?" he asked dreamily, as he felt his head grow rather light with every drop of blood lost. Even when Wormtail was done collecting his blood, the red liquid continued to drizzle onto the ground, causing black spots to pop in Harry's vision.

"I think I may pass out." Harry murmured.

"Wormtail! Stem the brat's bleeding, I don't want him dead _yet_, you imbecile!" came the muffled cry from within the cauldron.

"Are you sure you aren't related to Professor Snape?" Harry asked concernedly, "That may explain the nargles."

Wormtail ignored him and stumbled to the cauldron, dropping the phial into the simmering liquid. It turned instantly a pure, blinding white. From inside the boiling cauldron, stepped a thin man, with skin the colour of a skull and wide, red eyes. He was tall, with a nose as flat and as slit as a snake's. He eluded an _atmosphere_, one that made Harry's skin crawl and the hairs on the back of his head stand on end, and he was fingering a long, knobbly wand with a sadistic grin.

"Oh my, what _have _the nargles done to you?"


	4. Flamboyant Harry

** A rather flamboyantly camp Harry visits the graveyard and – darling? Voldemort **_**needs **_**a makeover!**

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"Oh _no_." Harry wrinkled his nose and shook his head violently. "That robe is _not _good on your figure; you need something a little more… fitting."

"What are you talking about, Potter?" Voldemort flourished his wand dramatically, and Harry was_ very_ jealous of his flexibility.

"How _do_ you do that with your wrist? It's fabulous, darling!"

"I'm going to kill you, Potter!" The snake-faced man insisted.

"That is _so_ the last three years, sweetie. Try something new!"

"Bu-"

"You know what? I think you'd suit a light grey, maybe a little red thrown in there to accentuate your eyes." Harry tried to reach Voldemort to show him his colour chart, but then he realised that he was tied to the headstone. Harry looked down at the bonds with a sideways smirk towards the Dark Lord. "If I knew you were into this stuff…"

Voldemort nearly retched and vanished the ropes. "I hoped this was just a phase." He gestured to Harry's gelled-back hair and stylish pink scarf. "It's so demeaning to have a…" Voldemort looked physically disgusted by the word, "Homo for an enemy."

Harry looked seriously offended for the first time. "That is so prejudiced. We - the gay rights community – are getting more rights now, you know. It's legal in Sweden now for men to marry. There's even talk in America of ending the so-called 'treatment' for homosexuality."

"What rubbish." Voldemort spat. "They should all be burned. Filthy mongrels, the lot of them."

"Says the wizard." Harry sassed, snapping his fingers in a 'z' formation. "Go and consult your _bible_ on that. Now, Petti, darling, your hair is _something_ else. I'm not even sure if it's a good something or a bad something, but a little conditioner and I'm certain it will be _fabulous_."

"Don't infect my followers with your _freakishness_, Potter."

"Don't infect_ my_ beautiful face with _your_ snakeishness." Harry crossed his arms huffily. "You know, I can't even bear to hear this spew of homophobic nonsense- there's a reason you're the enemy in this story! Maybe you should take a look inside of yourself, and wonder who you really hate. Me? Or do you hate yourself?"

Voldemort snarled.

"Now, if we're done here?" Harry turned on his heels and marched away, throwing his scarf dramatically over his shoulder.

"You won't be able to get past the anti-apparition wards!" Voldemort cried out.

"That's what _you_ think. _Never_ underestimate the gay." Harry winked mysteriously, and curled his fingers in a cheeky wave. "Bye snake boy!"

And then he disappeared with a flamboyant _d_e_mi-plié _and a spin.


	5. Female Harry

**Okay, before any o' y'all complain, I am a girl and a strong feminist. I am not bashing my fellow females out there, this is ****_not_**** a representation of every woman on this planet, but a mockery of the average fem!Harry TMR/HP story.**

**A female Harry Potter visits the graveyard and Voldemort is… flustered.**

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"P-potter." Voldemort stuttered. "I didn't expect you to be so…"

"Utterly gorgeous? I know. I have thick, wavy black/red hair, piercing green eyes and cheekbones to die for. My face is the picture of nobility and my body is out of this world. My perky boobs defy gravity, and my flawless complexion certainly doesn't follow the laws of female teenage hormones. I am perfect_,_ smart _and _powerful_,_ and completely contradict the years of abuse that I suffered at the hands of my relatives." Harriet pouted dramatically at the bamboozled Dark Lord, flipped her hair over her shoulder in a slow-motion sweep that any L'Oréal model would be envious of, and smirked at him.

"But I was going to kill you-"

Harry pressed a long, elegant finger to his lips. "Shh, don't talk. I'm going to fall in love with you, even though you murdered my parents, causing me 10 years of abuse and pain. The 50 year age difference between us is _insignificant_, even considering the fact that you're triple my age and I'm under the legal age of consent. _None _of it matters, because you're going to perform another ritual that gives you your pretty face back, and no one will give a damn _or_ remember you from a mere 50 years ago, not even the 40-odd students who went to school with you for seven years. Don't even bother changing your name or go to a minimal amount of effort to conceal your identity. Let's get together after three minutes, have sexy times and one of us will change the views that they've held for their entire life and become the Dark Lady/Minister of Magic, just because you or I pouted at either me or you with their 'smouldering red eyes'/'glowing emerald orbs'."

"But why would I-"

"You'll completely forget that you're physically unable to love because of your conception whilst your father was drugged by Love Potions, and fall head over heels in love with me. You'll completely alter your personality, wiping out the cold psychopath part and replacing it with a romantic and dedicated politician who just wants to make the world a better place. Your followers will be completely fine with it, except for Bellatrix who's a jealous cow. In fact, the Malfoys have been cautious of your behaviour ever since you 'turned evil' and now whole-heartedly support your new cause, forgetting the whole 'giving a deadly diary to a school girl thing'. Sirius will support my union with the Dark Lord, even though you're the embodiment of everything he's hated since he was a child, and we'll end our tale with a battle between one of us and Dumbledore, and a declaration of love."

"Wha'?" Lord Voldemort was completely bewildered by this apparent out-of-character behaviour of his. Nevertheless, Harriet grabbed his arm and spun on her heel, dragging him along with her.

"Now come on! I have a fortune/Ladyship to claim and Potter manor to refurbish!"

And then she broke through the anti-apparition wards, because that's just the BAMF female she is.


	6. Wrong Boy-Who-Lived Harry

**This is gonna be in a different format to my previous ones.**

**The Wrong-Boy-Who-Lived visits the graveyard and Voldemort is victorious..ish.**

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_"Ah! The Boy-Who-Lived! Harry Potter, we meet at last."_

"What?"

_"You, Harry Potter, are the Boy-Who-Lived. Those foolish beings thought it was your pathetic brother, but we knew better, didn't we?"_

"…What?"

_"You mean… you didn't know?"_

"No. It's never really come up in conversation before."

_"Oh. Well, this is awkward."_

"Sorry."

_"No, don't worry. It's not your fault. You just can't get the people these days."_

"I imagine Death Eaters aren't the best spies. They haven't a bone of subtlety in their bodies."

_"I know! And they call themselves Slytherins. It's disgraceful, really. The quality of cunning has really declined since my day."_

"Mmm."

_"I see you're a Slytherin… got your… tie there. Nice, and green."_

"Yeah. My parents were pissed though."

_"I imagine they were."_

"…"

_"You really didn't know? About being the Boy-Who-Lived?"_

"Not a clue."

_"Huh. And all the time I thought it was just an elaborate ploy…"_

"No. It was a complete surprise. Honestly."

_"It really sucks to have an unprepared enemy. Takes all the fun out of it."_

"I really _am _sorry about that."

_"Are you sure you don't have any lingering burning hatred towards me? Has our meeting sparked any flames of rage?"_

"Not really. You just seem kinda sad."

_"…Too bad."_

"Look, I feel really bad. Are you sure it isn't my twin? It was probably quite dark, there could have been a mix-up, it's happened before."

_"It was definitely you, glowing green eyes, silky black hair… I mean, your mother was right there!"_

"They've pretty much ignored me. It kinda blows, to be frank."

_"They sound like dicks."_

"Yeah, they are."

_"So… if you aren't going to fight me…?"_

"Sorry to disappoint, but I'm just not looking for a mortal enemy."

_"Shame. Do you want to, I don't know, maybe… join my side?"_

"I wouldn't have to be a Death Eater, would I? Because that's kind of a deal breaker."

_"No. You can have a special mask and everything."_

"Cool… Do you think my parents will be surprised?"

_"I don't think so. If what you say is true, they've had it coming for a while now. It was inevitable, really."_

"So you don't think they'll feel betrayed? Not that I really care…"

_"I'm sure it'll be fine. Come on then."_

"Where are we going?"

_"I have a mansion."_

"Oh, okay."

**"Master…"**

_"Shove off Wormtail."_


	7. Lucky Harry

**A****_ very_**** lucky Harry Potter visits the graveyard and - dang it! - Percy Weasley was right all along.**

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Harry Potter heard the words, "Kill the spare!" and like any sane human being, he stumbled back. Good fortune was something that Harry Potter had in abundance, so much so that he had been nicknamed 'Lucky' by half the school. (Yes, it was cheesy, but so were Dumbledore's robes, and nobody made a comment about those… out loud). Therefore, it came as no surprise that there was a loose rock right by his foot, which he stumbled over at just the right moment to push Cedric Diggory out of the way _and_ fall on top of the Triwizard Cup, which whisked him away from the scene, leaving two every shocked people (and a misshapen baby).

"Continue the ritual, Wormtail." Lord Voldemort demanded. Cedric Diggory blinked, and glanced around. What was going on? Was this the last trial? Had that been the _Killing Curse?_

"Bu m-master… Potter…"

"Use the boy!" Voldemort hissed, whitish pupils focusing on the bewildered Hufflepuff. If Cedric had been Harry Potter, he would have noticed the rather coincidental parellels between this scene and the one three years earlier, but he was not, and so he had no idea what the_ hell_ was going on. Was this a joke? Was he meant to be finding something? And did the fact that Harry was gone, mean that Potter had won? It wasn't fair! Gryffindor always won everything. Stupid lions and their stupid bravery…

Wormtail used the petulant Diggory's sulking against him, and dragged the boy toward a gravestone, shoving him against the slab half-heartedly. Grasping his wand with sweaty fingers, he tried to hide his rather embarrassing whispered incantation from the Hufflepuff. He never _had_ mastered silent casting, no matter how much Lily had tried to tutor him in the subject. Weak ropes appeared, and Wormtail prayed to Merlin that they would hold.

He dropped the small form of his master into the cauldron, and pointed his wand at the ground beneath the Hufflepuff's feet.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given. You will renew your son!" Pettigrew summoned the bone and his eyes widened with anticipation…

Nothing happened.

"M-master, it's not there!"

"You know, some graves were robbed for medical research." Cedric piped up helpfully. "Ha! I bet Potter didn't know _that_."

"Continue Wormtail! I'm sure it's not _that_ important." Voldemort hissed.

"Flesh — of the servant — w-willingly given — you will revive — your master." Wormtail sliced off his hand with a wince and squealed as it plopped into the simmering cauldron.

"B-blood of the enemy... forcibly taken... you will... resurrect your foe." The rodent of a man held a knife out in front of him with shaking hands as he approached the bound Hogwart's champion.

"If all it takes is blood to get out of here: have it!" Cedric insisted, offering his forearm to the rat animagus. A relieved smile broke across Wormtail's face and he made an incision much more confidently. As he collected the blood in the phial, Wormtail began to whistle cheerfully. Finally_ something_ was going right. He bustled over to the cauldron and tipped the red liquid in.

_Drip… drip… drip…_

_BOOM!_

The cauldron exploded in a fiery ball of flames, taking Peter Pettigrew out with it. The ropes holding Diggory evaporated and he crept cautiously towards the smoking pot. He peered over the rim and took in the scene before him: the bottom of the cauldron had burnt through and patches of blackened ground could be glimpsed through the hole.

"Someone should really write a legislation about that."


	8. Dark Harry

**A dark Harry visits the graveyard and - the wand fight? Well, you can interpret that how you want…**

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"Harry Potter, my greatest enemy… here to witness my victory." Voldemort gestured towards Harry and smiled at his Deatheaters, his teeth yellowed and eyes glowing red.

Harry straightened up and quirked a dark smirk at him. "Oh, I think not." He replied, his voice as low and velvety as Tom Riddle's had been at 16.

"Potter… are you… possessed?" Voldemort asked hesitantly, his evil grin slipping a little.

"No, it's just such a relief to get rid of that mundane mask." He sighed, his suddenly-gothic hair falling into his eyes. He flicked it out of his eyes and the ropes binding him to the stone evaporated into dark shadows.

"But that's impossible!" Voldemort declared dramatically. "I had my most loyal servant craft those ropes!"

"Loyalty doesn't always equal magical power!" Harry reminded him mockingly. "Anyway, I bet my servant's more loyal than yours."

"Who?" The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Draco Malfoy." Harry replied smugly.

"Damn it!" Voldemort stomped his foot and growled. "I thought I had the whole set!"

"Nope. _And_ he's in love with me." Harry crossed his arms and nodded triumphantly.

Voldemort scanned the area desperately, before focusing on an uncomfortably shifting Deatheater. "Lucius."

"Y-yes, my lord?"

"Kiss me."

"W-what, my lord!?" The normally oily drawl of Lucius Malfoy came out as more of a panicked squeak.

"Kiss me! If your son can kiss a blood traitor _and_ my worst enemy, you can certainly give your lord and master a peck on the lips!" Voldemort demanded impatiently. "Or do you want to be crucioed?"

Harry snorted. "Classy."

"At least I don't have to imperius him!" The Dark Lord sneered.

"Oh no. No imperiusing here! Just beauty, manipulation and a whole lot of elbow grease." Harry shrugged and inspected his nails.

Lucius Malfoy removed his mask with shaking hands, and straightened his robes. The usual Malfoy grace was absent as he stumbled his way over to his master, mumbling things like, "_Stupid son - going to _kill_ him!" _Quickly, Lucius darted up and placed a butterfly kiss on Voldemort's dry lips, gulping at the furious glare he received.

"I got the better Malfoy!" Harry sang insultingly. Bristling at the implied slander, Malfoy grasped Voldemort by the neck of his robes and snogged the life out of him. Then he squeaked and hurried back to his place, fixing the mask on hurriedly.

"Well, I wouldn't boast about _that_." Harry murmured derisively, his casual elegance irritating the Dark lord more than he could say.

"_I_ have the Malfoy fortune." Voldemort sniffed.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Lord Malfoy dropped dead.

"Now you don't." Harry stuck out his tongue.

"I fooled the whole of Hogwarts!"

"_I_ fooled Albus Dumbledore!"

"I discovered the Chamber of Secrets!"

"_I_ located the Philosopher's Stone!"

"I grew up in an Orphanage!"

"_I_ grew up with my abusive muggle family!"

"I'm a charming sociopath!"

"_I_'m a charming psychopath!"

"I hate muggles!"

"_I_ hate everyone!"

The two of them broke off, panting heavily. With blazing eyes, they scowled and said in unison; "There's only one way to solve this."

They both reached for their wands.


	9. Marauder Harry

**A Marauder Harry visits the graveyard and Voldemort is Samara.**

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Harry stumbled as he landed in the graveyard, still crowing to the absent Cedric Diggory. "Ha! Take that you stupid Hufflepuff! I got here before yo-" He paused and looked around, his surroundings finally registering. "Well this is cool."

Harry spotted a man clutching a bundle approach him, looming menacingly out of the fog.

"Hello?" He called out. "Look, that creepy fog thing you've got going on is _really_ awesome, believe me, and I'd _totally_ like to swap notes some time, but could you tell me where I am?"

"Your doom!" Came the squealed reply from the rags.

Harry laughed, because that high-pitched voice was _really_ funny. "Did someone kick you in the balls? Was it me? Do you even _have_ balls, or are you just fabric?"

The cloth creature _and_ the man ignored Harry, and continued his advance. "Wormtail, prepare the-"

"_Wormtail_?" Harry interrupted incredulously. "_The_ Womtail? Member of the _Marauders_; most awesome pranking group of all time?"

"Well, yes-" The man began to speak, but was cut off by Harry falling to his knees in reverent worship. "Oh Merlin! I built a shrine to you guys in my second year! Well, mostly you. I mean, the others sound kinda stuck-up to be honest; 'Prongs', 'Padfoot', 'Moony' but _Wormtail_? Just the right amount of sneakiness needed for a pranking master!"

By now, Wormtail was beginning to preen. "It's true. No one appreciates the amount of slyness needed to pull off the perfect pranks. A rat is supreme at finding ways into Slytherin dungeons."

"I love you." Harry declared, stars in his eyes. "Would you like a custard cream? It's my last one, but to have _the_ Wormtail eat it… it would be an honour." There were actual tears prickling at the corner of his eyes.

"Don't mind if I d-" Wormtail squeaked as he began to sprout feathers, his face narrowed and his arms transformed into wings. Harry smirked and ran his hand through his fringe. "Rats _suck_." He told the squawking bird smugly. Then he got out a mirror and spoke into the surface, pausing only for a moment to check his reflection. "Sirius Black. Hey, Siri. Yeah, I got kidnapped by Pettigrew."

_"__How is he?"_ Sirius asked eagerly through the frame.

"A canary." Harry said nonchalantly.

_"__That's my cub!"_

"Yeah, the only thing is, now there's this weird baby thing crawling across the floor towards me. It reminds me a bit of the scene from that horror movie you let me watch-"

"_Mr Potter!"_

"Oh, is Minnie there? I meant that horror movie you _didn't_ let me watch."

_"__In all my years… most irresponsible…!"_

_"__Busted."_ Harry and Sirius sighed.


	10. Squib Harry

**Harry has a foul mouth and Voldemort doesn't stand a chance.**

* * *

"It's those bloody wizards again, Marv! I swear, one day I'll-" Harry stopped his shouting as he landed in a murky graveyard filled with mist. He sighed and took a GPS out of his camouflage backpack. He tapped it impatiently. It beeped and he squinted, trying to read in the terrible lighting. "Little Hangleton…" He looked around dubiously. "What a dump."

"Harry Potter, the filthy squib." A figure stumbled out of the thick fog, a crow squawking in the distance.

"Very Hitchcock…" Harry commented, inconspicuously checking the gun on his belt. Taking him by surprise, the figure advanced and slammed Harry into the stone behind him, causing Harry to cry out as his head slammed into the rock. His vision began to spin, and Harry suspected he had concussion. He punched his attacker in the face, causing the figure to reel back clutching their nose. Harry tried to right himself, but his head swam and his stomach churned. Harry groaned, massaging his temple as he leaned forwards and gagged. His attacker righted himself again, and Harry felt thick ropes wrap around his torso.

While the man was preoccupied with mumbling mumbo jumbo, Harry slipped his hand into his trouser pocket, drawing out a knife. He sawed through the ropes, noticing that they weren't quite as thick as normal bindings. Probably something to do with magic. "Bloody magic." Harry mumbled.

Harry finally got loose, and whilst the insane man was dropping his hand into the cauldron – _his hand!_ – Harry took out his gun. Cocking and priming it – "Bloody insane, the lot of them" – he fired. His aim was true and the shot went straight through the back of the attacker's head, who immediately fell to the floor. He approached cautiously, kicking the corpse on the floor onto its back. Then he went over to the cauldron and fired a couple of rounds in, just to make sure.

He stomped out of the gates, muttering, "Bloody wizards, can't fight their own wars. 'Go to your relatives, Harry, they'll be more understanding of your 'condition'.' Why is it a condition? I'm a Squib! You can say the bloody word. I'm not even sure how I ended up in the Army, with a _gun _no less. I'm 14 bloody years old. The whole world's gone mad…

"…Now where's the bloody bus!?"


	11. Blind Harry

**Blind Harry is… well, blind and Voldemort is disappointed.**

* * *

"What do you think of my new face, Potter?" Voldemort preened, straightening his robes and running a finger along his wand threateningly.

"Um… I can't see." Harry shrugged helplessly.

"WHAT!" Voldemort looked panicked.

"I _am_ blind, you know." Harry reminded him.

"But… But… how will you make fun of my appearance?" Voldemort exclaimed.

"Why would I want to do that?" Harry asked with a frown. "It sounds kinda mean."

"That's the whole point – a few underhanded comments about your enemy's looks make duels all the more interesting. A few 'snake-faces'…" Voldemort trailed off and groaned at Harry's blank face. "It's for the whole 'fighting your mortal enemy' thing."

"Shouldn't I be insulting your personality or morals or something?" Harry wondered. Voldemort sighed and with a wave of his wand, the ropes disintegrated. Harry bent down and picked up his wand.

"See! Right there! No fumbling around – you just picked that thing straight up! How do you do that if you're blind?" Voldemort gestured wildly. Harry furrowed his brow and shrugged, "Just a 'magical sensing' thing, I guess."

"Well then you're not blind!" Voldemort shouted exasperatedly. He rubbed his temples and looked at Harry. "Just so we're clear, you won't be making any remarks about my lack of a nose?"

Harry shook his head.

"Right, I'll be holding auditions for a new enemy on Tuesday. Don't show up." Voldemort told him pointedly, writing it down on a conjured piece of parchment. Harry looked taken-back. "Hang on, you 'snaky person', you."

"Rubbish." Voldemort told him frankly. "Now go away."


	12. Seer Harry

**An all seeing Harry Potter visits the graveyard and Voldemort is****_ freaked_**** out.**

* * *

Harry Potter landed in the graveyard. With cheerful precision he pushed Cedric Diggory out of the way of the green light heading towards him and skipped over to the cloaked man. "Hey Wormy!" he greeted with a grin. Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a phial of blood. He put it in Wormtail's stunned hand and closed the fingers around it. "That's a quarter of a pint of Albus Dumbledore's blood, unwillingly given." Then he pulled the bone white wand out of Wormtail's hand, held it up to his own and said, "Expelliarmus."

A gold glow immediately surrounded the close wands and Harry broke the connection after a few minutes. He handed the wand back to Pettigrew. Then he strolled over to Cedric Diggory, grasped his hand and touched the handle of the Triwizard Cup. "See you in the Ministry!" He called as the pair of them disappeared. "I'm off to see Barty!"

...

"Wormtail, explain to me what just happened."

"I'm not sure, my lord."


	13. Sherlock Harry

**Harry is a high-functioning sociopath, not a psychopath! Honestly, Riddle, get it right!**

* * *

Harry looked around the graveyard with detached interest. "Little Hangleton." He declared, brushing some non-existent lint off his shoulder. Wormtail peeked his head around the gravestone he was hiding behind in shock, "What? How did you know that?"

"Well, you just confirmed it, you idiot." Harry said scathingly.

"B-but, before that-"

"Yes, I know." Harry rolled his eyes and began pacing. "Behind me, I see a gravestone marked 'Tom Riddle'. Tom, a rather common name-" there was a muffled hiss from a bundle of rags in Wormtail's arms which Harry ignored "-But 'Riddle'? Now we're getting somewhere. The dates are too worn away to see clearly, but for the marble to be as new as it is, this man must have died around 40 to 50 years ago. There have been only six Tom Riddles to die in the last 50 years. This is a large, high status headstone, meaning he must have been at least _close_ to nobility. That narrows it down to only two people.

"The ground is wet, suggested strong rain in the last 6 hours. There's only been weather like that in the _north_ of England recently, meaning that this man must have been the Tom Riddle of Little Hangleton, son of Thomas and Mary Riddle who were rather famously murdered in 1943. It's highly likely that this man was buried just outside his grounds and that theory is confirmed by the vast estate over there which I am certain belonged to the Riddles. That means this is the Little Hangleton graveyard." Harry finished triumphantly.

"Amazing-"

"Yes, Pettigrew, I know."

"How did you-?"

"Know it was you? It's rather simple really; your gait, height, shoe size and voice give it all away. It's a rather distinctive squeak, isn't it? I assume that the thing in your arms is Lord Voldemort, or rather: Tom Riddle?"

"H-"

"Your personality ensures that you need to follow to feel safe. When you were threatened last year, it's clear that you would run to the only figure you felt strong enough to protect you: your former master, the Dark Lord. His name is Tom Riddle, because he earlier showed a reaction of disgust towards the name and how ordinary it was, partly explaining your name change. Also, why else would I have landed here, right in front of this grave? Bringing your arch-nemesis here suggests a close emotional attachment, most likely hatred.

"The area around the grave is well trodden, but the stone is dirty. You're a wizard, if he cared for these people why would he not have you clean the stone? There are also scorch marks, likely from spells. He's attacked it then, he's angry. And given the fact that he's a murderous psychopath, he likely had a hand in their murder. However, when these people were killed, it was _just them_ and no one else in the village. This wasn't just a normal muggle attack then, he had a person vendetta against these people, but why would an evil Dark Lord ever have contact with some average muggles in the north of England? The fact that he changed his name suggests a need to get away from his past, his roots. They were his family then, making him Tom Riddle. The fact that Tom Riddle wasn't in any of the police records shows that he wasn't legitimate. The youngest child was exactly the right age to have a child with some village girl and then deny any connections or drive her away. He was angry, and that is why he killed them! Or at least, had Morfin Gaunt do it."

"Astounding-" Wormtail said in awe.

"It's also an anagram, bit obvious, but I can work with it."

"Incredi-"

"He also... told me. In my second year."

"What?" The high pitched screech made Harry grit his teeth in annoyance. "We had a confrontation. Of course, I deduced that in order for the Basilisk to be defeated, I needed to take away its main weapons - the eyes - with a quick blasting hex and then cast incendio down its throat in order to bypass the impervious skin."

"How did this-"

"Boring! How long have you been living in the Riddle House? Oh, sorry, that was a stupid question. Frank Bryce disappeared in August, and how much longer could you have been staying in the house without the caretaker noticing? A maximum of two weeks, I'll wager, making your stay around 13 months." Harry deduced with a smug grin. "Now, drop the Dark Lord." He told Wormtail.

"What-"

"Do it!" Harry commanded and Wormtail flinched like he'd been burnt. As soon as Voldemort hit the ground, a blast of green light erupted out of Harry's wand, hitting Voldemort square on. Wormtail's eyes widened in amazement as the unaffected Potter watched indifferently and spun around, heading towards the Triwizard Cup.

"The name's Harry Potter." He called over his shoulder. "And the address is number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey."

"But I betrayed your parents-"

"Don't care – boring!" He dismissed and levitated the fallen Portkey. "Do you mind the cello?"

"No."

Wormtail could only watch as Harry grasped hold of the trophy and quirked him a smile, "I'm sure we'll get along marvellously."


	14. Slytherin Harry

**Ravenclaw Harry is actually a Slytherin and Wormtail doesn't know his colours.**

* * *

Harry glanced at the dead body lying on the floor next to him with some regret. This death could have been avoided. He made a mental note to avenge the fallen Cedric Diggory if he had the chance and it came at no personal risk. Harry passively let himself be lead to the headstone and bound to it, although he tensed his muscles as much as he could to allow for more slack later on. When the man's face came into the light, revealing himself as Peter Pettigrew, Harry grimly reminded himself to kill the man at the earliest opportunity. He watched with cold interest as Wormtail levitated a white powder, which Harry assumed to be bone, into the cauldron and then sliced off one of his hands. Harry took savage pleasure in his scream of pain. When Wormtail approached Harry, brandishing a knife and foolishly recited the next line of the chant, Harry silently gave him permission to take his blood, making a small movement to offer his forearm. He hoped to Merlin that Wormtail did not notice his ploy. When the rodent-faced man didn't notice Harry's cunning plan, he found it hard to believe _anyone_ could be that stupid. Sending a silent prayer to Odin, Harry took his opening. "It's anticlockwise. You have to stir it anticlockwise."

Wormtail looked at him in confusion.

"That's the other way," Harry said helpfully.

"I know that!" Wormtail blustered; a hilarious sight in his squeaky outrage. "But why would _you_ be helping _me_?" He asked suspiciously.

"Because I'm a Ravenclaw," Harry rolled his eyes sarcastically, "That's what we _do_. We go around correcting people that don't want to be corrected and generally just making stuck-up nuisances of ourselves. Just thought I'd continue the tradition."

"Oh, okay," Pettigrew said cheerfully and started moving the ladle in the opposite direction. Harry watched in anticipation as it made its second turn, third turn, forth turn…

_Boom!_

Harry smirked as the cauldron exploded in a ball of searing flames and Wormtail screeched with pain as he was set on fire.

"It doesn't even need to be stirred, idiot." Harry told the burning man scornfully. "And I'm a _Slytherin._ There's a reason I'm dressed in green." Harry sighed as Pettigrew fell to the floor, twitching pathetically.

"Well now I'm going to have to get out of these ropes myself." He told an amused Nagini in irritation. He looked mournfully at his wand; lying just a few metres away. "And it looks like I'll be doing it the muggle way."


	15. Done Harry

**Harry has had enough and Voldemort just wants a hug.**

* * *

"No. Just no. I am so done." Harry Potter shook his head emphatically.

"What do you mean?" Voldemort asked, stopping his dramatic feeling of his body, which was making the whole situation a whole lot more creepy.

"Look, I'll hand in my resignation. I'll go to America. I'll even write a letter to the Daily Prophet! Just leave me alone."

"Why are you giving up now?" Voldemort asked, pouting.

"Have you _seen _you? You're all… snaky and… red-glowy-eyed," Harry gestured wildly, "And I'm fourteen years old. I could barely defeat you as a leech on the back of some weakling's head, and beating you when you were a phantom diary thing very nearly got me killed. So: _no_, just no."

"But you'll have the whole Wizarding World on your side." Voldemort said desperately. His arch-nemesis couldn't give up _now_, just when he was reborn. This was where it all got fun!

"Like hell! Have you _seen _the press I've been getting! And the wizarding world's just been lapping it up! There's no way the Ministry will want to deal with the outbreak this will cause, and seeing as I've already got a reputation as an insane, adrenaline junkie, attention seeker… sorry, but I'm just so out of here."

"But-"

"Look, I'll stay out of your way. I won't rally any forces against you, I'll just go away quietly, and you'll be free to do your whole 'taking over Britain' thing. We can even exchange letters and be friends! We might even fall in love."

"I _have_ always wanted a friend…" Voldemort considered, and Harry nodded encouragingly. "Ok, fine." The Dark Lord agreed huffily. "But I get to kill Dumbledore."

"Fine by me. Just try and not torture/maim/kill my besties will you? I'm quite fond of them, even though I'm abandoning them to flee to safety."

"Alright then." Voldemort consented reluctantly, but broke out into a smile. "Let's have a hug."

The two of them embraced and Harry made his way over to the cup. Before he picked it up, Voldemort called out, "Oh, and call me Tom Riddle!"

Harry saluted. "Well, I'm off to Gringotts to find one of the numerous Potter properties, grab a passport and jump on a plane. Wish me luck!"

"Good luck!" Voldemort waved.


	16. Snarry Harry

**Voldemort can't be dealing with five year olds, and is Severus Harry's father or his lover?**

* * *

As soon as Harry saw Voldemort, he burst into tears. "Wah wah wah! Scary snake face man!"

"What? Stop crying!" Voldemort demanded, but only made Harry cry more. "Want Pwofessor Sevy!"

"Why do you have the mental age of a five year old?" Voldemort asked impatiently.

"My uncwle and aunt hit me so I wan away and met the Pwofessor!" Harry said giggling.

"Why does that mean you have mental deficiencies?" Voldemort spat, and groaned when Harry started heaving more great gulping sobs. "Stop crying. It's not adorable. You're fourteen years old, act like it."

"Now I'll be spanked by Pwofessor 'cause I cwied like a baby!"

"Aww." Wormatil cooed.

"That's not cute. Why is that cute? That's abuse! Since when has abuse been cute?" Voldemort looked around wildly in confusion. Harry was still wailing and the Dark Lord gritted his teeth in frustration. "Do you know what? I'll fight Dumbledore instead. A senile old man is better than a whining man-child any day. Wormtail, take this brat back to Severus and tell him if he ever brings him within thirty feet of me again, I'll crucio him so hard his brain will turn to mush. I don't even care why he took in my mortal enemy and raised him like his own, I just want him out of my vicinity. Permanently."

Wormtail took the dribbling Boy Saviour to the portkey and wrapped his finger around it. Harry appeared in front of the maze, immediately standing up and dusting his robes off. Professor Snape ran down the stands, his robes flying out dramatically behind him and his hair flowing over his shoulders like silk. His nose was not large, but distinguished, and his eyes held so much light and warmth that they might as well have been fireworks.

"My love!" Harry cried, enfolding his lover in a hug. "He fell for it."

"Oh, you're wonderful. And just like Lily, your mother whom I loved with all my heart!" Severus cried, looking deep into the eyes that once belonged to the woman he loved, on the face of the man he hated.

"That's not creepy at all!" Harry sighed, and pulled his boyfriend into a searing kiss.

"Paedophile!" Ron shouted, pointing at the two in disgust. Hermione hit Ron on the back of the head. "Don't be small-minded Ronald. It's not paedophilia if they're both in love!"

"Of course. How silly of me."

Dumbledore gazed fondly at the two of them. "As the Headmaster of this establishment, I really should be discouraging improper conduct between students and teacher. But I don't really care because, ah, love. A magic more powerful than anything we teach here."

"Severus, I'm pregnant!" Harry declared. Severus looked at his tiny love in adoring befuddlement. "But how did you get a uterus?"

"Does it matter?" Harry asked with a laugh.

"I suppose not. We shall name it Septimus." Snape decided, giving Harry yet another spine-tingling kiss. "… You know, if I hadn't said one word twenty years ago, you'd be my son."

"How romantic." Harry breathed.

"We were just meant to be." Severus agreed.


	17. Pervert Harry

**THIS HAS A HIGHER RATING THAN THE REST! FEEL FREE TO SKIP THIS ONE! BE WARNED ALL YE WHO ENTER… OR READ?**

**I considered asking you guys about the creepiness of the last chapter. I thought I should ask your opinion on: 'was it ****_too_**** creepy? Have I finally gone too far?' **

**And then I thought: damn it all, and wrote this.**

* * *

**Harry has a dirty mind and Voldemort reflects glumly on society today.**

* * *

Harry gazed at Lord Voldemort's snake-like form and sighed glumly. "And you were so _hot_ in the diary." He whined.

"My Lord… my Lord… you promised… you did promise… oh _please_!" Wormtail begged.

"I could think of one other situation where those sounds would be appropriate. Anyone with me?" Harry asked (not so) innocently, glancing around as if he half-expected some pervert to pop up from behind a gravestone and yell 'I do!'

"Quiet Potter, you're fourteen years old for Merlin's sake."

"Didn't stop Sirius." Wormtail muttered mutinously.

"What was that?" Voldemort said sharply, and Wormtail squeaked, "Nothing master!"

Harry ignored the Dark lord's self-pitying (kind of inspiring) monologue about how he rose from the ashes of his father's grave and achieved his dreams or something. Harry thought it would make a great musical. He started paying close attention when Death Eaters began apparating in and immediately crawled towards Voldemort, kissing the hem of his black robes.

"_This_ looks like the start of an orgy." Harry commented, looking at the masked faces curiously. "All we need now is music and Rohypnol."

"Shut up Potter." Voldemort snapped. "Welcome loyal Death Eaters…"

Harry tried to peer under the masks on the Dark Lord's followers and guess their identities. There was a busty one and – did that one have a _cane_? Well, each to their own, he supposed.

When Voldemort began to crucio one of his followers, Harry watched with a slight frown. "Is this your kink or something? Because this guy doesn't look too consensual. There are clubs for this."

"I am glad to be punished by the master!" The trembling servant exclaimed in outrage, glared at Harry through his eyeholes. "It is the greatest honour the Dark Lord can bestow upon his lowly followers."

"Fine, fine. They're your rights."

Whilst that exchange took place, Voldemort had conjured a silver hand for Wormtail, who was now flexing it with an expression of the utmost delight.

"I wonder what _that's_ going to be used for." Harry said, an eyebrow raised knowingly.

"Urghh!" Voldemort turned to one of his followers with a scowl. "This would never have happened in my day. Kids were _kids_ back then. Where has childhood gone?"

"I don't know my Lord."

"Damn right you don't."


	18. Mad Scientist Harry

**Harry sees an opportunity and Wormtail takes it.**

* * *

Harry dropped a leaf that he'd plucked from a tree into the cauldron. The liquid immediately turned a vibrant purple and the shrivelled form of Lord Voldemort floated to the top. Harry poked it suspiciously, but relaxed when it simply bobbed below the surface a bit. "Like a rotten egg." Harry remarked, pushing it down again. "Actually that's quite fascinating." He raised an eyebrow and repeated the poke. "Was there some kind of chemical reaction that created sulphur? Have I discovered a new potion reaction? I must study this further."

Harry shrunk his enemy's corpse with a nifty nonverbal spell and levitated him into a conjured container. He looked at the box with a fuddled brow and narrowed his eyes. Then he shrugged and stuck it under his armpit.

"That'll start to smell a bit…" Wormtail crept out from behind a gravestone.

"How do _you_ know?" Harry asked, pointing his wand at him.

"Your parents' dead bodies began to stink after a few hours. I, um, leant over them. Laughing maniacally." Wormtail shrugged sheepishly.

"I thought you confronted Sirius Black then?"

"Apparition. I'm not completely useless."

"It appears I underestimated you." Harry raised an eyebrow. "I am in need of a research assistant. I am willing to provide accommodation and food."

"Accommodation - _where_ exactly? You're fourteen years old."

"I have a trunk. It's rather large." Harry quirked an eyebrow. "Well? How about it? I promise I won't experiment on you… too much."

"It's better than living life as a rat." Wormtail sighed and follow the insane genius. "So, how did you escape the ropes?"

"Acid."

"Ah. Do I get paid?"

"Don't push your luck."


	19. Smart Harry

**Harry uses his brain for once, and Wormtail has cats. Or does he?**

* * *

Harry looked around him. Creepy, smoke-filled graveyard? Check. Chilling, mysterious tingling on the back of his neck? Check. Really bad feeling about this? Check.

"My multiple close shaves with death have taught me that in situations like these, you don't stick around." He told a befuddled Cedric Diggory. "Take my arm." Harry put out his elbow and the Hufflepuff linked his arm with his.

"Dobby!" Harry called. With a _crack!_ the House-elf appeared. Dobby looked up with round, wide eyes. "What can Dobby be doing for the great Mr Harry Potter sir?"

"Um, can you take me back to Hogwarts?" Harry asked him.

"Oh yes Mr Harry Potter sir, Dobby can be doing that!" Dobby told him happily, his ears flopping as he nodded enthusiastically.

"Great." Harry grinned. "On second thoughts, can you take me straight to the kitchen. I'm starving."

"Indeed I cans!" The House-elf confirmed joyfully, and grasped Harry's waist.

"Perfect. Your treacle tart is really-"

_Crack!_

"Ah ha! Harry Potter, we meet agai-" Voldemort's gloated was cut off as he peered through the gap in the blankets and spotted the empty graveyard. "Where is he?"

"I don't know master-"

"Well of course you don't, you imbecile!" Voldemort shrieked. "Did the portkey even work?"

"Well, the cup is over there." Wormtail pointed at the abandoned Triwizard trophy lying in the grass.

"They can't have used that, so then _where _is my enemy?" Voldemort hissed.

"Maybe he's hiding – behind a gravestone perhaps, or perchance he's invisible!" Wormtail started wildly swinging his arms around himself, dropping the Dark Lord onto the ground.

"Ouch!" He whined. "Wormtail, you moron, come back!" But his servant was already gone, stumbling across the grounds calling, "Here Potty, Potty!"

"He's my arch nemesis, not a cat." Voldemort pouted.

"Or maybe he is! Maybe that's how he escaped. Hang on, I think I have some cat food somewhere around here," Wormtail started patting his pockets.

"Why do you have- do you know what? I don't even want to know. I get the worst luck. And the worst servants."

"I found it! It's a little off, but I'm sure it'll still-"

"ARGHHH!"


	20. Homeless Harry

**Harry just came for the food and Voldemort runs a street gang.**

* * *

_"__Harry Potter, my greatest enemy. We meet at last."_

"Um, hi. Look, those Hogwarts people only found me on the streets a few weeks ago, so I'm kinda new to this whole 'magic' thing. Am I supposed to fight you or something?"

_"__Why would they want a schoolboy who's only been learning magic for a matter of days to fight the greatest Dark Lord of all time?"_

"I dunno, I just kinda went with it. I came for the food, really."

_"But weren't you being trained somewhere secretly?"_

"Why would you think that?"

_"There were… rumours, and the Daily Prophet ran a few articles speculating."_

"No, I was homeless, man. I was living on the streets."

_"Why on earth would the Boy Who Lived be without a place to go?"_

"Er, my muggle relative were abusive. I ran away when I was 7 - 8?"

_"Wow, that's… rubbish, really."_

"Tell me about it."

_"Why are you helping the man that sent you to live with them?"_

"D'you know what? I'm not really sure."

_"Are you… bitter, by any chance?"_

"…Little bit."

_"Okay, I don't offer this to everyone, but I've got this set up for people who want vengeance on muggles. You get food, lodging, clothes… it's a pretty sweet deal."_

"Eh, I would, but for some reason, there's this guy with greasy black hair that I trust. He looks at me with utter loathing, but here's just something about the blatant hatred in his eyes that just appeals to an abused kid."

_"What's his name?"_

"I can't quite remember… Snap?... Snoop?... Snipe?..."

_"Snape?"_

"Yeah, that's the one!"

_"Why, he's on my side!"_

"Really? He never mentioned it."

_"He's a spy. It's sort of in his job description to be discrete."_

"Oh, cool. That's good, then. This… group of yours, is it a bit like a street gang?"

_"I guess."_

"Awesome. I was in one of those too, you know."

_"That's nice."_

"Not really."

_"Oh."_


	21. Dumbledore Harry

**Thank you everyone for your amazing reviews! They seriously make my day so much brighter. If anyone has any ideas for possible Harrys I could do in the future, that would be most appreciated!**

* * *

**Harry doesn't have a fashion sense and Voldemort's eyes can't take anymore.**

* * *

"Ah, Tom. Such a sorry path you have chosen to travel down, but remember; to be pointed in the right direction, one only needs to believe in oneself. Only then can you truly understand the consequences of your actions and begin to make amends." Harry said with a knowing twinkle in his bright green eyes.

"…That literally made no sense. It just sound like a lot of wise-sounding words strung together and designed to make me feel guilty." Voldemort crossed his arms suspiciously.

"I speak only the truth. You can still make things right. You just need to give a little love, and it all comes back to you. You know you're going to be remembered, for the things that you say and do."

"That was surprisingly lyrical, and altogether useless." Voldemort remarked.

"Thank you, my boy."

"I'm 40 years older than you. In what alternate reality am I 'your boy'?"

"If you wished me to stop, you need only have asked." Harry paused. "Oh, Tom. What _have_ you done to yourself?" Harry asked sorrowfully whilst regaling Voldemort's new body.

"What have _you_ done to yourself?" The Dark Lord retorted, eying Harry's toxic green and burgundy robes.

"Do you like them?" Harry asked gleefully, spinning around with his arms raised. "Albus helped me pick them out."

"Well, this explains everything." Voldemort muttered, eyeing Harry wearily. "The old codger's got to you. Brainwashed you, most likely."

"Tom, you shouldn't accuse people like that. Albus has merely enlightened me on the beauty of bold fashion statements and wisdom, as it is now my job to do for you. Lemon sherbet?" Harry offered, producing the paper bag from nowhere. Voldemort gestured for Harry to take them back and pinched the bridge of his nose. Harry shrugged and took a sweet out. He unwrapped it, popped it in his mouth and smacked his lips loudly in appreciation.

"I was hoping for an enemy who wasn't a senile old goat with false delusions of grandeur…" Voldemort sighed, working his jaw in consideration, "But I suppose you'll have to do."

Right at that moment, Harry popped out a foldable pointy hat and pulled it firmly onto his head. That was; a foldable _pink and sparkly_ pointy hat.

"No, I _can't_ do it." Voldemort decided grimly. _"Avada Kedavra!"_


	22. Playboy Harry

**Thanks to all for their reviews and ideas. Keep 'em comin'!**

**Harry has a private army and Wormtail is the target.**

* * *

"Woah, _this_ needs refurbishment." Harry remarked, ruffling a hand through his hair. "Like seriously. A few clean-ups, nice weather, this place could be okay. Not a nice as my beach house in Hawaii, but still."

"You have a beach house in… Hawaii?" Wormtail asked curiously.

"Yeah, it's not as nice as my place in Florida – now _that_ place is huge. My place in Hawaii only has 11 bedrooms – I know! 11! The girls were _so_ disappointed, but I showed them the Jacuzzi and they were… very happy."

"_Girls?_" Wormtail asked in disbelief.

"Yep. My dashing good looks and magnetising charm just draws them in."

"Exactly like James." Wormtail muttered.

"Thanks." Harry replied, flashing him a glowing smile.

"I hated the bastard. I betrayed him to the Dark Lord. Always lording his fame and money over the rest of us mere mortals."

"…That pretty much described me in a sentence. I'm actually quite impressed. Ah well then, you can team up with Rite Skeeter and give me a bad review."

"A bad review..."

"In the Daily Prophet? I bought them out recently, but before that they were giving me _really _bad press. Too bad they came across the Potter lawyers." Harry checked his rolex watch and sighed. "Listen, nothing personal (well, it kind of is, you're a bit of a dick), but I've been forced to, well, call the fangirls. On you. And Voldemort. Sorry."

"What? Fangirls?" Wormtail asked in confusion, glancing around him nervously.

All of a sudden, there was a roar. Then a rumble. Then a scream.

The ground began to shake, and Wormtail stumbled as he tried to steady himself. He blinked into the bright light on the horizon as a huge group of girls streamed over the hill. The wave of bikini models, minor actresses and gold-diggers came in a wave, trampling everything in their destructive path as they screamed "HARRY!"

Harry stood up with a wide grin and open arms, "Here I am, ladies!" He pointing over his shoulder with his thumb towards Pettigrew. "First one to kill this guy gets a visit to my private estate in BRAZIL!"

They seemed to speed into a blur, heading straight for the trembling rodent.

"Well I gotta pop off. I've got a business meeting in 5. See ya!" He waved cheerfully at Wormtail, and then saluted to the approaching females. "I'll forward the tickets in the mail!"


	23. PMSing Harry

**If you're a guy, and periods make you go: OMG! NO! JUST NO! STAY AWAY DEMON! Then this chapter isn't for you. Also, grow up.**

**I ****_am_**** a girl! I know that this is ****_no_****t what we're like every single month (as boys seem to think. SO… FREAKIN'… ANNOYING.) But it's not just an exaggeration, either. I'll have a couple of days where I'll see a kitten and just ****_cry_****. It sucks. It just sucks.**

* * *

**Harry is on her period, and the whole bloody Wizarding World are sexist pigs.**

* * *

"Urghhh!" Harriet screeched, kicking the gravestone nearest to her. She winced and hopped on one foot, rubbing it tenderly. "This freaking blows." Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared down at her injured toes sorrowfully. "And now my foot hurts." Her bottom lip trembled and she sat down on the ground heavily. She scrambled to her feet almost immediately. "It's wet." She spat angrily, glaring at the dew-covered grass accusingly. She limped over to a bench and sat down on it, but sprang to her feet yet again. "That's wet too." She hissed, patting her damp behind. "Is there nowhere in this infernal graveyard that isn't bloody wet!?"

A minute passed. Harriet looked down at the wet patch on her jeans in growing horror. "_Was_ that water?" She peered over her shoulder awkwardly, sighing in relief when she noticed that the dampness was most certainly _no_t red. "Oh, thank god."

"Um… hello?" A man timidly called out as he crept out from goodness knows where.

"_You._" Harriet rounded on him. "Did _you _bring me here!"

"Well, yes…"

_Smack!_

"How _dare_ you!" Harriet marched closer, poking her finger into his chest. "I ache and hurt and I was _almost_ about to go home, lie in my nice warm bed with my nice warm hot water bottle, when _you_ come and kidnap me and take me to the _godforsaken_ place filled with damp, and spiders a-a-and-" her eyes filled with tears, and she started bawling. "I j-just w-want to go home! I have cramps and I forgot my Ibuprofen-"

"W-what's 'Ibrofed'?" Wormtail asked cautiously, as if he wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer or not.

"_Ibuprofen_ is a painkiller! A muggle one! For period pains!" Harriet's eyes narrowed. "You '_wizards'_ are the biggest bunch of sexist pigs I have _ever_ met in my _entire_ life! Did you know, there's not one single _convenient_ potion designed for witches on their monthly? Not _one_! I have to bring boxes and _boxes_ of painkillers with me every year, because you wizards can't get your heads out of your _arses_ and realise that we _women_ have to deal with things! And they're not taboo! You're all trapped in the freaking dark ages! Professor Snape even confiscated my pills, and when I went to go and ask if there was an equivalent magical potion he just sneered at me and said, 'Don't mention those disgusting things to me, Miss Potter. That sort of thing is for witches to discuss." Her eyes were practically smoking with fury. "But we can't discuss it with witches, oh no, because it's too much trouble for our 'dear' Headmaster to call _one_ sex education class. I've had to learn from books. _Books_! Do you know how vague those diagrams are?! I waited a whole _six months_ until I could get back to the muggle world and ask my _aunt_ about it! And let me tell _you_, my aunt is _not_ the person you discuss that sort of thing with. But I did, because I had to, and god help me, she was more helpful than you lot!

"And the Triwizard Tournament! _No _consideration for the female competitors. What do you think they would have done if I'd started my period and then I had to jump into a _lake_?! Not _bloody_ much! Because, according to them, this sort of thing _doesn't exist_! And I've had to fight Blast-Ended Skrewts, Acromantulas and Boggarts - all with _blood_ dripping from between my thighs! Do you know how many dark creatures that attracts!?

"And now I'm in a graveyard with d-dead people and my parents died and you're so _insensitive _and if you're going to kill me, then just do it already, because the pain's unbearable and I just wanna _die_!" She collapsed into tears again, drawing deep panting breaths into her struggling lungs.

"Wormtail," Voldemort whined. "I need the blood!"

"BLOOD?!" Harriet shrieked, throwing her hands in the air. "I have _plenty_ of blood. _Leaking _out of me, in fact! Why don't you just hold me over that cauldron over there-" she gestured wildly "- and _shake_ me?! Hmmm!?"

"Wormtail-" The Dark Lord began considerately.

"DON'T YOU _DARE_!" Harriet screamed in outrage. "Now you will take me home, call 'Mione and tell her that I _need_ her for _Christ's_ sake and that it's a code red and to bring chocolate." She finished hysterically. "Got it?!"

Wormtail nodded meekly.


	24. My Immortal Harry

**Most of the humour in this comes from the notorious fanfiction 'My Immortal', so if you haven't read it, you probably won't get it. Basically, it's a fanfiction infamous for it's hugely Mary Sue protagonist and awful grammar. T****he things in italics and speech marks are direct (or damn well close to) ****quotes ****from the fanfiction!**

**There's some bad language in this, because it wouldn't be My Immortal if there wasn't!**

* * *

**Harry's a vampire (but not really) and Enoby pops up.**

* * *

_"__Hi my name is Enoby Dark'ness Dementia Way and I have long ebony black hair with purple streaks and red tips that reaches my mid-back and icy blue eyes like limpid tears-"_

"What the hell are limpid tears?" Harry whispered to Voldemort, staring at this strange girl who had come out of nowhere.

"Something clear or transparent." Voldemort replied with a furrowed brow.

"Can you even _have_ transparent icy blue eyes?" Harry questioned.

"I don't think so."

The two of them looked at her eyes with vague interest.

"They're the colour of mud." Harry murmured.

"It makes me feel rather sick." Voldemort heaved.

_"__I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow."_

"Who is she talking too?" Harry edged closer to the Dark Lord.

"It's either herself, or us." Voldemort replied slowly.

"Why does she need to tell us what she's wearing. Or herself? And in such… painful detail?" the Boy Who Lived closed his eyes and winced as she listed every teen clothes shop in existence.

"Maybe she's forgotten?" Voldemort suggested helplessly. Then the girl noticed Harry.

_"__I was looking into the pale white face of a gothic boy with spiky black hair with red streaks in it. He was wearing so much eyeliner that I was going down his face and he was wearing black lipstick. He didn't have glasses anymore and now he was wearing red contact lenses just like Draco's and there was no scar on his forhead anymore. He had a manly stubble on his chin. He had a sexy English accent. He looked exactly like Joel Madden. He was so sexy that my body went all hot when I saw him kind of like an erection only I'm a girl so I didn't get one you sicko." _She narrated in a droning voice, dribbling slightly as she stared at the Boy Who Lived.

Harry was horrified. "I don't look like that, do I?" he asked pleadingly, tilting his face up towards Voldemort.

"No Potter. You look just like your usual weedy, under-developed self." Voldemort assured him curtly, trying not to let his enemy notice his gradual backing away.

_"OMG! Vampire! I luv you, but u r such a prep 4 hpling Draco cheet on me. Hes my bf and wiv me u fucking losr! But you make me so hot undr my cloves. Lets make out and u can put ur thing in my whol!"_ The girl – 'Enoby' starting lurching towards the pair, her arms outstretched desperately and her smudged lips pursed into a soppy pout. _"Kiss me, you fucking hotty!"_

"Well, go on then Potter. Kiss her, be done with it and get her _awa_y from me." Voldemort hissed, pushing Harry towards the horrifying _thing_. Harry was resistant and dug his heels in. "Just kill her!" He demanded in a hushed voice.

"I thought you didn't condone killing?" Voldemort sneered, stopping his shoves.

"This is the exception." Harry muttered under his breath, his eyes filled with more fear than Voldemort had ever seen.

"I don't know. The crazy girl has the crush on _you_, not me. I don't see how killing her would benefit _me_ in the slightest." Voldemort mockingly considered.

"I'll be your slave for a day."

"A month."

"A week."

"Three weeks."

"Two weeks- dammit!" Voldemort cursed.

"Ha! Now get rid of her. Quickly! Before she…" Harry gulped, "_Kisses_ me."

Voldemort stepped forward, wand raised.

_"__Then all of a suddenly, an horrible man with red eyes and no nose and everything started flying towards me on a broomstick! He didn't have a nose (basically like Voldemort in the movie) and he was wearing all black but it was obvious he wasn't gothic. It was… Voldemort!"_ She spouted dully.

"What movie?" Voldemort queried Harry over his shoulder, approached 'Enoby' cautiously.

"Does it matter? She's clearly escaped from a ward in St Mungos. Just get rid of her and be done with it!" Harry snapped, crossing his arms.

_"__Anyway, I started crying tears of blood and then I slit both of my wrists. They got all over my clothes so I took them off and jumped into the bath angrily while I put on a Linkin Park song at full volume. I grabbed a steak and almost stuck it into my heart to commit suicide. I was so fucking depressed! I got out of the bathtub and put on a black low-cut dress with lace all over it sandly. I put on black high heels with pink metal stuff on the ends and six pairs of skull earrings. I couldn't fucking believe it."_

The two of them looked in disbelief at the corpse on the floor.

"She killed herself." Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Obviously. Did she think she was going to survive that?" Voldemort scoffed.

"It just seemed a little… unprovoked." He sighed.

"Well, I _was_ going to kill her." The Dark Lord pointed out.

"You've tried to kill _me_ several times." Harry pointed out. "_I_ haven't turned suicidal."

"No, that's a different fanfiction altogether."

"What?"

"Just ignore me. It's been a strange day."

Harry kicked the body non-too-gently, but it didn't twitch. "Huh, she really is dead."

"Face it, she probably did the world a favour."

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, I suppose so. Just seems a little… anticlimactic."

"Well what did you expect? A huge confrontation, with guns, and cameras, and wombs?"

"Suppose not." Harry scratched his ear. "Shall we put this whole thing behind us? You can try to kill me another day. I just need to sleep. Knowing my luck, this has all been a hallucination, and I'm actually dead or something."

"That's a different _book_ altogether."

"Huh?"

"Nothing, nothing. Well, see you around then, Potter?"

"Yeah. See you!"

The two of them turned around.

_"__WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU MOTHERFUKERS!_

_It was….Dumbledore!"_

"NOOOOOOO!"


	25. Ghost Harry

**I imagine the song sung to the tune of 'Oranges and Lemons, said the bells of St Clemmons.' Or, if you're a little more ginger; a slow funeral march. :)****  
**

* * *

**Harry's dead and Myrtle will be pleased.**

* * *

"H-hello? Hello? D-Dumbledore? I-it's Harry. I think he's… I think he's _dead._" Cedric wandered through a fog-covered graveyard, face glazed over.

"WHAT?"

Cedric winced and covered his ears. "Um, hello? Who's there?"

"Oh, I think you know. I think the whole WORLD knows!" Emerging from the fog dramatically, a faint silhouette took shape. Its head was bulbous, creating an alien likeness and its limbs were bony and malformed, forming claws hands at the end of each stick-like arm. It appeared to be levitating out of the grey mist and the light illuminating its features was an unearthly green.

"An… abused baby?" Cedric frowned.

"Lord Voldemort, you fool." The creature sneered. "Urgh, where's Potter when you need him? _He_ would have recognised me." The Dark Lord wobbled unsteadily and he rolled his eyes. "Put me down, you imbecile, and extinguish that infuriatingly bright light."

The smoke cleared to reveal Lord Voldemort balanced precariously on one of Wormtail's hands. The other was being used to hold a wand, which was emitting a weak green glow.

"Put me down." Voldemort ordered. "Now!" Wormtail placed him on the floor carefully.

"Now, go get the brat's body - I can only pray the blood hasn't cooled." The Dark Lord hmphed. Wormtail looked taken-aback. "The-the b-body?"

"Yes. His _corpse_. Remains, cadaver, carcass, carrion – whatever you want to call it." Voldemort said impatiently. Wormtail started shuffling towards the Portkey nervously.

"Hurry up!" Voldemort snapped. Wormtail flinched and grasped a handle. He disappeared with a short squeak.

Cedric was still frozen; murmuring, "He _died_. He _died._ He _died_."

"Yes, he did. Get over yourself." Voldemort grouched, crossing his arms. "It's _my_ enemy who's dead, and it wasn't me who killed him!"

"But he's dead." Cedric whispered hoarsely, his eyes haunted.

"Indeed. I can't say I'm gutted, but there's a small twinge, deep inside me, which _might_ be grief. Or maybe I'm just hungry." Voldemort shrugged nonchalantly. There was a silent, broken only by Cedric's occasional moans and groans.

"What was it that killed him?" The Dark Lord inquired.

"A-acromantula. It b-bit him and the b-black spread through h-his v-veins-" Cedric shuddered.

"Darn. It wasn't even one of my followers. Just some stupid _spider_."

There was a 'womph' and Wormtail reappeared, Harry's dead body slung over his shoulder. He was trembling under the heavy weight, and finally plonked it on the ground, collapsing onto the grass beside it.

"Don't mutilate it!" Voldemort complained.

"It was _heavy_." Wormtail whined.

"Don't be a weak, pathetic… _Dumbledore_!" Voldemort spat.

"I can't help it." Wormtail whimpered. "It was how I was born."

"Just cut off his arm and drip the blood in."

_"__Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son. Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master. Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe."_

As Voldemort examined his arms with sadistic delight, neither Wormtail nor the Dark lord noticed the transparent form of Harry Potter materialise over his deceased body.

Harry looked down at his silver-tinted arms in horror. "Godammit! I'm dead." Harry ran his fingers through his white hair. "Myrtle will be so _pleased_. 'If you die, you can share my bathroom, Haaaryyyyy'. _Urgh._ It'll be _torture._ Can't I find peace in my afterlife?" Harry spotted Voldemort and his face lit up (literally, it started glowing). "_You_ won't be returning to Hogwarts, will you? You'll be doing evil stuff, taking over the world…"

"_No._" Voldemort breathed in terror. "You _can't_."

"I'll haunt _you_. It'll mean escape from Myrtle, vengeance on my parent's murderer… and it'll be _fun_. It's about time I had some fun, even if I have to be dead to do it!" Harry said stubbornly, warming even more to the notion.

"You can't!" Voldemort wailed hysterically. "You can't carry on annoying me when you're _dead_. What am I supposed to threaten you with?"

"This just gets better and better." The cunning ghost chuckled, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

"Argh!" Voldemort stamped his foot in irritation. "Come on. We're _moving_." He told his whimpering follower and marched off up the path, muttering in irritation.

"You can't escaaape," Harry sang, floating after them. _"Oh Voldy, oh Voldy, your nose has gone mouldy, it dropped off your face, and went into space."_

_…_

"He's dead. He's dead. He's dead. He's dead…"


	26. YouTuber Harry

**For the purpose of this, electricity does work around magic. :)**** It's just a lie set up by the ministry to encourage wizard and muggle separation. BECAUSE THEY ARE EVIL!**

* * *

**Harry has a video camera and Voldemort doesn't have twitter.**

* * *

Harry held a finger to his lips, signalling for Voldemort to be quiet. Voldemort, utterly bemused by the muggle device pointed at his and his enemy's face, did as he was told. Harry held up a camera, pointed it at his face, and pressed record. "Hey Magicians, this is a special video! I'm here with the Dark Lord himself; Lord Voldemort. You can check out the link to his twitter page below."

"I don't have a 'tritter' page, Potter. What is that, a muggle torture device?"

"You don't? Who _doesn't_ have twitter? This is the 21st century!"

"I was born fifty years ago, Potter."

"Okay, fine. Whatever. So, there _won't_ be a link to his twitter page below – dammit, I'm going to have to edit this out – but you can google him, and I'm sure you'll come up with _something_. Now, this guy," Harry slung an arm over Voldemort's shoulder. "We have had some _crazy_ times- let me tell _you_."

"What's going on Potter?" Voldemort asked irritably, shaking Harry's arm off.

"He has no idea," Harry winked at the camera, "What a camera even is. And I assure you– _he_ is a Dark Lord. Not one off of Star Wars (though I think he would _totally_ rock the Sith Lord look), but a magic one. And I know some of you guys think I've made up the whole 'I'm a wizard' thing – and I am _so_ flattered that you think I could fake a whole magic _school _– but let me introduce you, my magicians, to Lord Voldemort."

"Potter-"

"The same Lord Voldemort who tried to kill me when I was one, my first and second year. I've mentioned him in quite a few of my videos, mostly 'I'M A WIZARD!', 'I ALMOST DIED' and 'I HATE SNAKES'." He turned to Voldemort. "You have a fan page. Quite a lot of the fan art is pretty accurate." He paused for a minute with the camera on the Dark Lord's face.

"What are you doing?" Voldemort hissed.

"There'll be a split screen now, showing some of my favourite fan art against your face. It's all pretty cool actually, I'll email you the link."

"…What's an email?"

"Ok then, I won't." He gritted his teeth, muttering something about "old people and technology" but took a deep breath and pasted a smile to his face. "And for all of you guys out there who think I just hire actors (and I admit, it's a legitimate theory): could I really create a face this hideously ugly and scaly with makeup? Look at the hatred and sadistic pleasure in those eyes." He zoomed in on Voldemort's face. "Could I really fake that? Although, if I did, I would totally get Ralph Fiennes to play him. I mean, look at this guy"- he gestured to an empty space on his left- "He's perfect for the role. Maybe even more perfect then you, Voldy. Sorry. You just can't compete with the Fienness- ha!" He laughed and flicked his wrist.

"…There's no one there, Potter." Voldemort said, glancing at the Boy Who Lived with concern.

"There will be." Harry assured him, before looking back at the camera. "This guy is _insane._ I just beat Cedric to the end of the maze – cue _whoo!_ sound effect – and I touched the handle of the Triwizard Trophy. It was a bloody portkey! Then they tied me to a gravestone and took my blood for a ritual- urgh, I can see the fanfiction now."

"What's fanfiction?" Voldemort asked innocently.

"The most traumatizing three hours of your life – no, but seriously, I love you guys. Anyway, gotta go – if I stick around he might try and kill me – _again_. BoyWhoLived apparating out!" And he pressed stop.

He immediately began typing on his phone.

"What are you doing, Potter?" Voldemort asked suspiciously, his eyes narrowing.

"Sorry about this, but you did murder my parents _so_… I tweeted our address to my followers." Harry shrugged apologetically.

"How many followers do you have?" Voldemort asked worriedly. Was his enemy's army bigger than his?

"I'm a British Youtuber, how many do you think?" Harry rolled his eyes. "Look, they won't do anything awful to you –now _that_ would be bad for my fanbase – just maybe create some tumblr posts, re-enact some smutty fanfiction… it'll be fine. You might even have fun." Harry straightened his t-shirt (reading 'It's Ironic') and waved, "Bye!"

He walked away, flicking through the footage on his camera. "By the way, don't even _try_ to escape. They _will_ find you. Ta rah!" He focused on the abandoned portkey lying on the grass. "Now _this_ would make good footage." He flicked the screen open on his camera and zoomed in on the cup. "Oh, look. What do we have here?" Then he disappeared with a "Dammit, I forgot to press record!"


	27. Salesman Harry

**I don't know if any of you clicked on the latest chapter 'YouTuber Harry' earlier, and it was a load of unidentifiable code? Sorry about that, and it's been fixed! My computer completely spazzed out, and I had to update on my phone.**

* * *

**Harry is a cunning salesman and Wormtail's a gullible fool.**

* * *

"Hello. I'd like to take the opportunity to offer you a wide range of products. We have magical lawn mowers; easy to assemble with only three charms as demonstrated in the leaflet. You never have to go through all those cutting charms again. With just a simple wand flick to start and finish, it identifies all uneven areas of grass and cuts them to an outstanding quality. Now only 20 Galleons, 4 sickles."

"…"

"No? That's fine, fine. I have more! Have you ever needed to add that little extra _something_ onto your food? Well now you can, with crushed Humphra eggs, imported all the way from South Africa. I can guarantee that the Humphras were free range, and raised with no extra magic to contaminate them. The powder is uniquely spicy, with a little exotic musk. For a pot of it, I can take 2 Galleons, 5 knuts. I have a sample, if you'd like to try it?"

"…"

"Not for you? Don't worry, I'm sure I have _something_ here that you need. Ah! I notice you're not wearing shoes. Fashion just too hard to get your head around? I have the answer! Made with the finest acromantula silk, these curly toed slippers are coming back in! They featured on the front cover of Magical!Vogue, and have been seen on iconic figures in fashion, such as the beautiful Madam Delacour, the dashing Julius Aquas and the charming Millicent Reynolds. All this, and they're only 60 Galleons."

"…"

"Not hitting that spot? I can also sell you the new Travelling Sofa. With soft seat padded by cushioning charms, this is the new, comfortable alternative to the floo and a family friendly method of transportation. Ever get tired of your child throwing up after the dizzying floo travel? Just take a seat on the Travelling Sofa, and it safely apparates you and your family to the determined destination. Best of all, you need an adult to register their magical signature for the sofa to move, ensuring your children don't play on it and accidently get lost in the desert! You can pay for this in three instalments of 50 Galleons over six months,"

"… I just want your blood."

"I'm sorry, but that's not on our list."

"… But I don't want anything else."

"Goodbye. Thanks for your time."

"But – I need your blood!"

"I'm sorry, I have other houses to visit."

"But… urgh. Fine! I'll buy the stupid shoes."

"Excellent."


	28. Goblin Harry

**Harry is raised by Goblins. All you need to know.**

* * *

_"__Gza spla too gnaif ofa dijs fhs jaa."_ Harry spat.

"I'm sorry, I don't speak _your_ language. It's all… well, _Gobbledook _to me." Voldemort shrugged with a condescending sneer.

_"__Fusj ha sja da ah sha gza fou su!"_ Harry roared, drawing his sword.

"Oh what are you going to do with _that_, you uncivilised beast? Sort my gold?" Voldemort laughed uproariously.

_Slice!_

"_Ga ju,_ you fucker." Harry growled, kicking the Dark Lord's head as it rolled to a stop at his feet.


	29. Pokemon Harry

**Harry loves his Oshawott and Voldemort's addicted to Pokemon.**

* * *

_"__Harry Potter, we meet a-"_

"Shhhhh."

_"__What?!"_

"My Oshawott's about to evolve."

_"__Your… Oshott?"_

"Awesome, Dewott!"

_"…__What are these… things?"_

"Well, Oshawotts are a part of a video game called Pokémon. You have to raise creatures, which have different attacks, and then face them off against each other in fights to earn money and badges. There are tournaments and gym leaders to defeat and everything."

_"__So this… veedio game pitches House Elves against each other in gory fights to the death for mere Galleons? And there are also Dark lords whom you have to crush in order to gain victory?"_

"God, you make everything sound so _evil_. But, basically, yes."

_"__I _like_ this game."_

"Er, if it makes you like it any less; the Pokémon are cute."

_"__Give it here. In what insane world could vicious killing machines be cute- oh. I see what you mean."_

"Yep."

_"__Oh my Merlin, they're _adorable."

"Just makes you feel sick, doesn't it?"

_"… __just go up here… through this grass… ooo, I have a challenge!... what attack to use?..."_

"Er, could I have my DS back now?"

_"__Take that, you pixilated fiend!"_

"No, really, I'd like it back now."

_"__Ha! You should have known better than to mess with the Dark Lord..."_

"… I hate you."

_"__What's new?"_

"I _really _hate you."

_"__Shut up, my Bulbasaur is evolving."_

"I wish you'd just _die_."

_"__Go suck a Poké Ball."_


	30. Rapper Harry

**The bold bits are quotes from the book. Also, I wrote all these songs/raps, so don't sue me!**

* * *

**Harry can write a mean rap, and Voldemort ain't got nothin' like his style.**

* * *

**'****"My Lord …" he choked, "my Lord… you promised… you did promise…"**

**"Hold out your arm," said Voldemort lazily.**

**"Oh Master . . . thank you, Master ..."**

**He extended the bleeding stump, but Voldemort laughed again.**

**"The other arm, Wormtail."**

**"Master, please... please..."**

**Voldemort bent down and pulled out Wormtail's left arm; he forced the sleeve of Wormtail's robes up past his elbow, and Harry saw something upon the skin there, something like a vivid red tattoo - a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth - the image that had appeared in the sky at the Quidditch World Cup: the Dark Mark. Voldemort examined it carefully, ignoring Wormtail's uncontrollable weeping.**

**"It is back," he said softly, "they will all have noticed it... and now, we shall see... now we shall know..."**

**He pressed his long white forefinger to the brand on Wormtail's arm.**

**The scar on Harry s forehead seared with a sharp pain again, and Wormtail let out a fresh howl; Voldemort removed his fingers from Wormtail's mark, and Harry saw that it had turned jet black.****Voldemort slipped one of those unnaturally long-fingered hands into a deep pocket and drew out a wand. He caressed it gently too; and then he raised it, and pointed it at Wormtail, who was lifted off the ground and thrown against the headstone where Harry was tied; he fell to the foot of it and lay there, crumpled up and crying. Voldemort turned his scarlet eyes upon Harry, laughing a high, cold, mirthless laugh.'**

Harry looked up dramatically, his perfectly styled hair flicking out of his face. Suddenly, there was a stage light focused on him, and a beat began to play in the background. Voldemort looked around wildly as a Harry began move from side to side, and a pair of sunglasses materialised on his face.

"What _is_ this magic?! Some kind of scheme?! What's going on – Albus? Are you behind this?!"

_"__Hey Mr Voldemort, _

_Why you bein' so being so mean?_

_Trying to beat up the little guy,_

_You're on the same team!_

_He's only tryin' to help_

_Only payin' his price_

_But you scarring his arm_

_Would it hurt to be nice?_

_Just be nice, dude._

_Just be nice._

_Just be nice, dude_

_Just be nice._

_He's a loyal servant_

_Betrayed his own gang_

_Just to follow his master_

_Who's that? You, man!_

_Give him some love_

_The respect he deserves,_

_And for ever and ever_

_It's you that he serves!_

_Just be nice, dude._

_Just be nice._

_Just be nice, dude_

_Just be nice._

_But this is only advice,_

_You don't have to follow_

_I get it, I do!_

_It's a hard load to swallow_

_But give him some peace_

_And the time of the day_

_And who knows dude?_

_You could both be gay!_

_Just be nice, dude._

_Just be nice._

_Just be nice, dude_

_Just be nice._

_This was Potter,_

_Peace out!"_

The music faded away, and everything was silent.

"… I am NOT gay!"

Everyone stared at Wormtail, who went bright red and scuttled away muttering, "I'm _not_!" under his breath.

Voldemort shook his head in despair and looked at Harry doubtfully. "Did _you_… write that? Because we have copyright laws on here."

"Yes I did. My very own work. I'm releasing an album soon. It's called Hippogriffs and Hufflepuffs, by Undesirable No.1. It's well cool. But, you wouldn't 'ppreciate it, man. You is well old! You is ancient!" Harry laughed, flicking his wrist.

"Youths these day- _butchering_ the English language. Since when was 'is' a replacement for 'are'?"

**'****The air was suddenly full of the swishing of cloaks. Between graves, behind the yew tree, in every shadowy space, wizards were apparating. All of them were hooded and masked. And one by one they moved forward . . . slowly, cautiously, as though they could hardly believe their eyes.'**

"M-my Lord. You-you are back!" An oily stutter, and Harry's face lit up. "Luci! Dude! I thought you was under the imperious, man!"

"Shut up, Potter." Malfoy snapped.

"But I thought we had a connection. You were my bro!"

"My Lord, please can we kill him?"

"Now hold on a minute! What's all this talk of killing people? We should get along, man. You could be my mates, my gang! Kisses and hugs, and all that hippy shit." Harry pulled his jacket lapels, and straightened his hat. "I wrote a rap 'bout that. It goes a little like this."

"Oh Merlin- not another one!"

_"__I was lying in bed,_

_Just had a nightmare,_

_Why we always battle?_

_It aint even fair!_

_People get hurt_

_And that's not cool_

_So I thought to myself,_

_Just follow one rule!_

_Peace and love,_

_Guys, we don't need war_

_Peace and love_

_On my broomstick; soar!_

_We might be enemies_

_Might get in some fights_

_But I'll call you frenemies_

_We'll go out for nights._

_And I'll buy you Tequila _

_And I'll order you shots_

_And we'll all be wingmen_

_Best mates that we got._

_Peace and love,_

_Guys, we don't need war_

_Peace and love_

_On my broomstick; soar!_

_We'll buy matching hoodies_

_And get a new name_

_We'll get all the girls,_

_Money, fortune and fame!"_

Harry was jumping up and down by this point, pumping his fist. Some of the Death Eaters had whipped off their robes to reveal themselves to be back up dancers and were now dancing behind Harry.

_"__You can ditch your wives_

_Ditch your lives_

_Hang with this son,_

_And have some fun!_

_Frenemies!_

_Frenemies!_

_Frenemies!_

_Frenemies!_

_Whoo!"_

There was a silence, and suddenly one lone Death Eater at the back piped up. "I'll be your friend!"

"I is likin' yo style!" Harry nodded, making his way towards the Death Eater and pulling him into a one armed hug.

It was like a dam had been opened.

"I'll be your friend!"

"I suppose it wouldn't be so bad."

"I _would_ like to get away from Narcissa-"

"And Susan-"

"And Layla-"

"And Victoria!"

The Death Eaters all pulled off their masks and milled around Harry, answering his high fives and patting each other's backs.

"Looks like I got me a possy!" Harry yelled.

"Urgh, defeated by the power of choreography." Voldemort groaned.

"One thing: what's 'Tequila'?" A thick-set man with brown eyes and more muscle than the Hulk asked innocently.

"I'm glad you asked, Goyle. It's like Firewhiskey… but _better_." Harry explained wide-eyed. Everyone exploded into cheers and whoops.

"How do you even know what Firewhiskey tastes like? You're not of age!" Voldemort tried to makes himself heard over the ruckus.

"When you is a rapper, age don' even matter – oh!" Harry laughed and flicked his wrist again. "I'm a poet, an' I don' even know it!"

The former Death Eaters roared with laughter and pulled Harry up onto their shoulders, carrying him away to the chant of 'Encore! Encore! Encore!..."

"Alrigh', just one more rhyme!

_"__All you Hufflehoes,_

_Just gather around,_

_I'll show you one thing,_

_And that is my sound!_

_My Gryffindor roar_

_You ain't heard no other!_

_'__Cept the awesome hiss,_

_Of my Slytherin brother…"_

"Hello? Hello?" Lord Voldemort growled and stomped off, slamming the door to his house.

"I'm _not_ gay… I'm _not_ gay… I'm _not_ gay…"


	31. Moody Harry

**Harry knows CONSTANT VIGILANCE and Moody is, well... paranoid.**

* * *

Harry looked suspiciously between the Triwizard Cup and Cedric Diggory.

"Why do _you_ want me to win?" Harry said gruffly. Cedric couldn't keep his gaze off Harry's false eye. "Because… Hogwarts… loyalty- I can't do this. I'm sorry, but can you _please_ tell me whether you did or did not gouge your own eye out just because you wanted a fake one like Moody's? The rumours have been driving me crazy."

Harry smirked. "Constant vigilance."

"I want a serious answer."

"Constant vigilance."

"No, honestly. I'd like to know."

"Constant vigilance."

"Tell me!"

"Constant vigilance."

"TELL ME FOR MERLIN'S SAKE!"

"STUPEFY!" Harry watched as the limp form of Cedric Diggory sailed through the air and collided with the pedestal, causing the trophy to fall onto his head. Both the unconscious Hufflepuff and the cup disappeared. Harry grunted with satisfaction and pulled out a mirror.

"Alastor Moody." He said, and almost immediately he got a full view of a false eye peering cautiously into the glass.

"What's the code?" came the harsh question.

"4953749620420373."

"My favourite colour?"

"A bright sunshine yellow."

"Why?"

"Because it's the brightest and easiest colour to see. No one can hide whilst wearing sunshine yellow." Harry recited.

"Good." The false eye shrunk, and the face of Alastor Moody took its place. "Your turn."

"What's the code?"

"The Beatles all wear polka dot underwear."

"What's the first thing I remember?"

"Me hanging you off the chandelier and interrogating you about any former Death Eater history." Moody said with a fond grin. Harry nodded seriously. "The Triwizard Cup was a Portkey."

"Did you take it?"

"No. I stunned Diggory and sent him."

"Good lad." Moody said proudly.

"Does the imposter still think you're trapped?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Aye. I think it's time to show him what a true Auror can do." Moody smirked in anticipation.

"Can I watch?"

"I suppose so. It'll be a good learning experience, teach you how to handle filthy Dark Wizards. And remember: CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

"Sir, yes sir!" Harry saluted, and put the mirror away.


	32. Turtle Harry

**This is for you, Extended Experience. You're one of my favourite reviewers and I was looking through my reviews (280 * dreamy sigh*), and just saw your turtle thing. My whole brain just went 'What the hell!'**

**Also, shoutout to timefreak, who shouted out to ME on one of his fics! A SHOUTOUT! ABOUT ME! I was seriously so excited, I screamed and boasted to everyone I knew… and some I didn't. So, read his fics (all of them!), and that is an order! They're all hilarious and awesome!**

* * *

**Harry is a turtle and Voldemort has ****chelonaphobia.**

* * *

"Animagus form!" Harry thrust a fist into the air. Voldemort and Wormtail watched with interest. What form would the legendary Harry Potter take? A mythical creature thought only to exist thousands of years ago? A shadow panther? A lion to represent his bravery and strength? A unicorn to show his purity and golden heart?

"A… turtle?" Wormtail looked disappointed as he looked at the slow-plodding, slightly drowsy-looking animal in front of him. "That's less scary than a rat! At least a rat is vaguely creepy." Wormtail suddenly laughed and turned to his master. "My Lord, your enemy's animagus form is a measly turtle-" He halted his chuckles when he saw Lord Voldemort cowering behind him. "T-t-turtle!" Voldemort stuttered, hiding behind his hands. "I-it's s-so horrible."

"_You_ have a fear of _turtles_?" Wormtail asked incredulously.

"T-they're g-green and their s-shells – it's j-just not n-natural!" Voldemort shuddered.

Harry morphed back. "Lord Voldemort has _chelonaphobia_?" He turned to Wormtail in disbelief.

"I know! Wait- what's chelnophobia?" Wormtail scratched his head in embarrassment.

"A fear of turtles." Harry told him, watching the Dark Lord growing more and more confident with every passing moment that Harry was out of his animagus form.

"Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. When I-"

Harry turned back into a turtle. Voldemort screamed.

"There's no way I'm following _him_." Wormtail scoffed, and looked at the turtle. "Can I follow you?"

Harry gave what Wormtail assumed to be the turtle equivalent of a shrug. Pettigrew took his rat form and scurried behind his new master, watching as Harry slowly advanced on a trembling Dark Lord. Voldemort began to mutter something about "The power the Dark Lord knows not."

He sounded a bit crazy really.

Harry gave his robes a lazy snap with his beak and gave a wheezy turtle chuckle when Voldemort squeaked and flinched. He gave Wormtail an awkward sort of head nod thing which was turtle for 'come on' and began to shuffle slowly across the floor. Harry shrugged again and turned back, mumbling to himself about finding the nearest coastline. Then he picked Wormtail up and they apparated away, leaving a hysterical Dark Lord shrieking, "The turtles are coming to get me! They'll kill me! They'll murder me in my sleep! They'll crawl under my covers at night and bite my toes off!"

He never recovered.


	33. Lockhart Harry

**Wormtail's a fan and Harry sees an opportunity for a book.**

* * *

"Hello? Do you want an autograph? You didn't have to drag little old me all the way out here for that, you know. I have to pay homage to my adoring fans!" Harry peered around the graveyard slightly uncertainly. "Er, come out ladies!"

Wormtail emerged from behind a gravestone with a copy of 'Duelling with Dragons' clutched tightly to his chest. He had a shy smile on his face and his watery blue eyes were filled with bashed adoration.

Harry blanched.

"Oh, you aren't _quite_ what I was expecting, but nevertheless…" Harry looked at the book and quill held out to him in exaggerated surprise. "Oh! You want _me_ to sign _this_? Well, I _never_. Very well then. Your name?"

"Peter Pettigrew."

"Very nice." Harry said, oblivious to any connotations. Humming quietly, he signed his name in a loopy scrawl across the book cover.

_To my most interesting fan,_

_Harry Potter_

Suddenly, Wormtail slammed Harry against a gravestone and conjured up rough ropes to tie him to it tightly.

"Oh I say! This is _most_ unorthodox!"

As Wormtail tightened the bonds, Harry began to find it hard to breathe. "Do you know how expensive these robes were? They're ruined! I'll tell my editor! She'll sort you out with a… nasty… lawsuit…"

His vision began to go dark and stars popped right before his eyes. "Oh… how pretty…"

His last thought before he passed out was; _This will make a marvellous book. Pandemonium with Peter. It has a nice ring to it._


	34. Salazar Harry

**I do not condone violence, and every reference towards physical discipline in this chapter is for comic reasons!**

* * *

**Grandpa Harry is mad and Voldemort won't stop misbehaving.**

* * *

Harry grumbled as he landed in a graveyard. He marched across the grounds, the live snakes on his robes hissing in irritation.

_"__I know, I know."_ Harry agreed grumpily. _"Most inconvenient. The thumbscrews it is."_

"Salazar." From behind a gravestone, stepped the newly rebirthed Lord Voldemort, suitable creepy and snakeish.

Harry looked him up and down. "You're alive."

"Yes." Lord Voldemort conceded, inclining his head. "I was going to use you in the ritual, but I heard the rumours that _you_ were my ancestor reincarnated…?"

"They were true." Harry – or _Salazar_ – sighed. "And unfortunately, I can also confirm that we're related. I can only pray it's through one of my sister's lines. She was an idiot enough to have borne you. Merlin _knows_ it's embarrassing enough to have you using the Slytherin name, never mind being my however many greats _grandson._"

"Why?" Voldemort asked, slightly hurt. "I've done everything in _your_ name! I've opened the Chamber, razed muggle towns to the ground, murdered my impure father's line. Now you're back we can purge the world of filthy muggles and their offspring together."

"There are several issues I'd like to point out here. However, I can't say them all, because that would take years. Merlin knows how I wish I could have raised you, if only to save the world from your stupidity. First off: Lord _Voldemort_? '_Flee from death'_? That's the most cowardly thing I've ever heard. I would be ashamed to even be _associated _with you. Secondly: purge the world of muggles? That was fine when muggles were no better than animals and hadn't even invented electricity yet, but they've advanced since then, '_Tommy-boy'_. I'd even say they're a fair bit further ahead than so-called 'wizards''."

"But you were abused! _Muggles_ abused you!"

"They're not _all_ evil! That would be like calling all witches evil, just because I've met Ginny Weasley! At least _muggles_ don't crucify everyone who can speak a foreign language!" Harry shook his head sorrowfully. "The wizards of my time were accepting and welcoming. It's one of the reasons _I_ seemed so extreme. Ah, how the mighty have fallen."

Voldemort opened his mouth to object, but Harry advanced on him with narrowed eyes and accusing finger. "And _you_\- why you haven't helped my reputation at all! 'In Salazar's name' 'Salazar would want'- I bloody well don't! I was _dead!_ How could I encourage or approve of _anything_?! Also, how many times have you tried and _failed_ to kill me; a _child?_! Oh how 'brave' of the 'great heir of Slytherin'; defeated by a baby!"

"I-"

"Also; what did you do to my snake!?" Harry yelled furiously.

"I… I…"

"It's dead. I know. That what happens when _you_ get nice things. I was forced to kill it, after you unleashed it - on a _school_. Of children! It was there to _protect _people, you bloody maniac! How was getting Hogwarts shut down helping at all?!"

"… When did you get your memories?"

"… A few weeks ago. It bloody well hurt, and _now_ I'm a cranky hundreds year old man with a misbehaving grandson -_Merlin_, I can only hope not. What do you think I'm going to do?"

"No- please-"

"I'm going to take you to a Muggle town and introduce you to Muggle culture- and you _will_ like it. Or Merlin help me, I will smack you so hard you will _not_ be able to sit down for a week!"

"I'm fifty years old-" Voldemort protested, turning red from humiliation.

"And how's that working out for you, hmm? Skulking in a graveyard with a useless rodent-"

"Hey!"

"- and failing to kill a little boy? Have you achieved your life ambition?" Harry asked sarcastically. Voldemort looked ashamed.

"No? So quit your yappin' and give some respect to your elders! And for Merlin's sake, change your name!"

"But I- ouch! Ow! Ouch ow! Let go of my ea- OW!"

"Shut up, boy! I'm going to teach you some manners, whether you want them or not!"


	35. Umbridge Harry

**I have a beta. Yay! RUGoing2writethat will be checking my chapters from now on. Thank you!**

* * *

**Umbridge raises Harry and the results are… well, ****_terrifying._**

* * *

Voldemort flinched back as he caught sight of his enemy. He was dressed in a blue sailor suit with shiny buckle shoes, and his hair arranged in an angelic halo around his rosy cheeks. He looked sickening sweet. Nevertheless, Voldemort soldiered on. "Harry Potter. How… fitting that you shall meet your end at my hands!"

Harry looked at the newly risen Voldemort pitifully, and patted his trousers down. "Hem, hem," He coughed sweetly. "Who is that _really_? I mean, it's not the Dark Lord, because he's not _real_. So why don't we stop this _silly_ little charade and you can take me home? Hmm? That would be the mature thing to do," Harry simpered and smiled condescendingly, "And we don't want to act like silly little children, _do_ we?"

Voldemort looked confused and more than a little angry. "I _am_ the Dark Lord Voldemort! I have risen from the grave to defeat the Boy Who Lived and take my place as ruler of the Magical World."

Harry turned white.

"This. Is. A. _Lie_." He spoke with punctuated anger, "Lord Voldemort is _dead_, due to the Ministry's wonderful war efforts, and _you_ would do well to remember it."

_"Merlin_, you're oblivious," Voldemort said disgustedly, "I'm standing right in front of you. How brainwashed _are_ you?"

"This is _clearly_ a set up designed to debase the Ministry. Lord Voldemort. Has. Not. Returned!"

"I have! I'm right here! I am Dark, I am a Lord (of sorts) and I'm real!"

Nothing.

"_Real!"_

Nothing.

"Helloooo! I exist!" Voldemort shook Harry's shoulders desperately, but Harry just ignored him.

"Fight me! Acknowledge me! Pl-h-hease!" Voldemort sobbed, sinking to the floor and beating the ground with his fists.

"I don't see any silly old 'Dark Lords' here, just a ridiculous man who thinks he can outwit the Ministry with a petty little stunt," Harry said, pointedly ignoring the sobbing Lord Voldemort.

"I j-just want you t-to believe in m-me! W-why c-can't you see m-me?" Voldemort asked helplessly, tears streaming down his face.

"Of _course_ I can see you, I see all too clearly. This. Is. A. _Lie_, and you will _never_ get a job at the ministry like my mother and Unc- I _mean;_ the Minister," Harry said with a tight smile and flaring nostrils.

"I don't want a-"

"This. Is. A. Lie!" Harry screeched. "_Everyone_ wants a Ministry job. A Ministry job is _the_ job. STOP LYING TO ME!"

"I j-just want s-someone t-to believe in m-"

"CRUCIO!"


	36. Anime Harry

**Thanks to my beta, RUGoing2writethat.**

* * *

**Harry thinks Voldemort is 'kawaii'. He firmly disagrees.**

* * *

Harry looked wide-eyed at the newly reborn Lord Voldemort.

Voldemort could swear he saw literal stars appear in his eyes.

Suddenly, Harry burst out of his ropes with superhuman strength and glomped the Dark Lord, attaching himself to Voldemort's leg. "KAWAII!" Harry squealed, his eyes scrunched up and his mouth open wide. "SO KAWAIIIIII!"

"I'm not 'cute'! What's going on?" The Dark Lord asked Wormtail furiously. "What's he doing?"

By now, tears were streaming down Harry's face. "LORD VOLDO SO KAWAIII!"

"It's Voldemort! Vol-de-mort!" The Dark Lord punctuated in complaint, but shook his head when the Fanboy-Who-Lived ignored him. He looked up in desperation at his follower. "Well get him off me!"

"B-but, my L-Lord, he m-might attack m-_me_!" Wormtail whined, looking at the screeching boy with apprehension. "I might catch it!"

"My life is more important than yours!" Voldemort shouted, tipping over from the sheer force of Harry's 'squee's.

"I-I politely disagree, my Lord." Wormtail said nervously, backing away from the scene slowly.

"COME BACK HERE, YOU TRAIT- ARGH!" Voldemort yelled, falling to the floor in a cloud of dust, his arms moving like windmills. "I'LL KILL YOU WORMTAIL! I'LL KILL YOU!"

"SO KAWAII! AI!"


	37. Hippy Harry

**Imagine Harry talking in an American accent, like the turtles in Finding Nemo. :)**

* * *

**Harry is coooool man, and Voldemort's aura is noooot good!**

* * *

"If you'd just embrace peace and love-" Harry looked at Voldemort's new appearance with a furrowed brow and slightly dazed expression. "Duuuuude, that is not what nature intended. You've gone against nature, man!"

"What are you talking about; 'against nature'? And why do you have dreadlocks?" Voldemort demanded sharply, eying the dirty ropes of black hair with disgust.

"Your aura is not good, dude! You have to get back to your core; your inner peace." Harry said soothingly, nodding his head wisely.

"My 'aura'? What nonsense is this? You mean my magical core?"

"No, dude. I mean your core. The part of your soul that's _connected_ with the world around you. The feeling in your heart when you step outside and just…" Harry took a deep breath. Voldemort tried to copy him cautiously, but as soon as he breathed in, he began coughing and clutching his nose. "Y-you h-haven't w-washed for d-days, h-have you?" Voldemort pounded his chest, eyes watering. "T-that's disgusting!"

"All better to get closer to nature, dude. If I carry a piece of the forest on me, I _become_ the earth. I become the embodiment of _life_. And that's cool, man."

"T-that's not life- t-that's the s-stench of d-death!" Voldemort choked.

"You clearly haven't found your happy place." Harry pouted consolingly. "Do you want to know how _I_ find my happy place?"

Voldemort shook his head desperately, but Harry ignored him.

"I just go up to a tree…" Harry demonstrated with an oak. "Wrap my arms around it, and give it a _big_ hug." Harry did so. "Feel your energy mingling with the tree's. Feel its life running through your veins. Feel its roots entwine with yours. (If you need to hump a little to _truly_ get to know your tree; feel free.) And then close your eyes, and-" Harry half-opened his eyelids. "-feel yourself completely at _peace_ with the world."

Voldemort stared at him in horror. "Oh my Merlin, you're completely batty."


	38. Lord Harry

**Sorry I haven't written a chapter lately guys, I just got a few bad test results and I've been a bit depressed recently. I'm kinda doubting my ability to write.**

* * *

**Harry's a Lord and the Wizarding World is a ****_republic_****.**

* * *

Voldemort stared at the display of pure, effortless wandless power in bewilderment.

"W-what? H-how? Even _Albus Dumbledore_ can't perform that kind of magic!" Voldemort spluttered.

"I am _Lord _Potter." Harry said as if the answer should be obvious.

"So?" Voldemort said, utterly bemused.

"Since I'm part of the tournament – a tournament for _adults_ – I am automatically of age. That means I get a Lordship and the ability to perform magic out of school and some other rights and honour stuff- I didn't pay much attention. Neville's showing me the ropes." Harry shrugged.

"Why does that mean you get awesome power?"

"I'm a Lord!"

"And…?"

"I dunno, something about 'familial magic' and heir rings- does it really matter? All you need to know is that I'm head of the ancient and noble Potter family and so automatically amazing." Harry crossed his arms huffily.

"It _does_\- matter, that is. My whole force is made _purely_ of old, pureblood families; at least _half_ of them would be Lords and Ladies. I doubt such a ranking does exist,as that would imply a monarchy, and the Wizarding World is a _republic_. You _could_ argue that we're in England and therefore under the rule of the Queen, but we're governed by an entirely different set of rules, so I doubt the Queen has any influence. We only _inform _the Prime Minister what's going on (and even then with great intimidation and patronisation, which is practically muggle baiting, when you think about it), not defer to him."

Harry had no idea how Voldemort knew all about muggle culture and the monarchy. Although there _was_ that whole 'know thine enemy' thing...

"However, if we _did_ have Lords and Ladies, and that status gave you extra magic or some other nonsense, then _my_ number of high-ranking Pureblood families would far outweigh yours. Practically the _only_ other Pureblood family you have on your side are the Weasleys, and their only special talents are; still managing to be impoverished even though they can use magic; and extreme fertility."

Harry was slightly disgusted, but he had to concede. The Weasley's _were_ good at having babies. Voldemort continued with a smug grin.

"Also, with this whole 'amazing old family trumps all' aren't you arguing _for_ Pureblood elitism? Mudbloods don't come from old families, and so with your reasoning, Purebloods are superior."

"… You know, now you mention it, I think I might just be coming into my inheritance."


	39. Nudist Harry

**Harry won't put clothes on, and Voldemort won't join F.A.R.T**

* * *

"Oh god. I'll never recover," Voldemort gagged, turning his head away, "Put on some clothes!"

"Why should I change my views just to get someone to accept me?" Harry asked, crossing his arms over his bare chest. "This is how I feel comfortable, and so this is how I shall remain. I refuse to conform to society!"

"It's not conforming! It's goddamn covering yourself up so others aren't traumatized!" Voldemort shielded his eyes with his hand. He peeked a little and then shuddered. "Please." he croaked.

"I don't want to. I feel… at ease like this," Harry said mildly.

"Well that makes one of us!" Voldemort squawked.

"You know, there _is_ a rather nice breeze around here," Harry looked down, "The cold air feels _very_ nice on your privates. Archie was right, after all. I hope he isn't smug."

"Archie?" Voldemort asked cautiously. Were there more of these madmen that he needed to watch out for?

"A friend of mine. Met him at the Quidditch world cup where he was wearing a rather wonderful nightie. He _insisted_ the cold air wasn't uncomfortable, but I thought otherwise. We made a bet about it, as I _refused_ to go outside without warming charms. I thought I'd try it today." Harry looked around him and smiled. "I must say, I _do_ like the results. I'll be sharing this at the club." Harry mistook Voldemort's horror for confusion. "Archie's a member of a nudist club: 'Fresh Air Refreshes Totally' that practices in the muggle and wizarding world. There are no laws against public nudism in the wizarding world, you see. You should come along. It's liberating really, to feel the wind on your naked chest, the softness of plants as they brush against your skin, the warmth of sand against your bare b-"

"That's enough! Enough!" Voldemort yelped, looking disgusted. "I'll obliviate myself, I'll obliviate myself, I'll obliviate myself…" He started muttering.

"Are we going to fight? Celts went to war naked." Harry said mildly. "Come to think of it, I think they wore blue paint too. Wonderful role models; Celts," He remarked considerately.

"I'll obliviate myself, I'll obliviate myself…"

Harry nodded firmly, "Hang on, I'm just going to get blue paint and then I'll be back in a jiffy to do this duelling thing!" Harry ran off, his pale buttocks glowing under the light of the moon.

Suddenly, a terrible thought occurred to Voldemort. An awful, _awful_ thought that nearly made his skin peel off and his eyes pop out. A thought that should _never_ be uttered aloud, lest tsunamis rage and hurricanes howl. The thought was so _horrific_ that Voldemort had a mini heart attack right where he stood. As he lay on the floor, his head pounding, chest heaving...

_Wormtail naked._


	40. AVPM Harry

**This is based off A Very Potter Musical. If you haven't watchinng, you won't get this. You can watch it on YouTube, and if you don't have time to watch the full two hours, I recommmend you look up 'Ginny', 'Harry Freakin' Potter', and 'Lupin Can't Sing.**

* * *

**He's Harry Freakin' Potter and Voldemort ****_knows_**** already!**

* * *

"Gonna take you out… to…" Harry trailed off and looked around him in befuddlement. "Huh?"  
"Ah, Harry Potter, the Boy Who-"

"Yeah, that's me alright. I'm Harry freakin' Potter!"

"… Are you speaking in an American accent?" Voldemort said finally, regarding the boy in front of him cautiously. "And I know who you are; an insignificant little House Elf who managed to get lucky. But it won't happen again!"

"You don't understand, I'm a legend, man, to them all!" Harry cried out, punching a fist in the air.

"And I thought I was supposed to be the egotistical one."

"Every son and daughter – whoo!" He yelled and jumped on the spot. The Dark Lord backed away. "Safe from You-Know-Who-"

"You can say my name. You've done it before." Voldemort rolled his eyes.

"All because of me, I was small!"

"It was actually your mother. Some garbage about sacrificial magic and love and she-"

"But I wonder if you can recall…"

"Of course I can. I was there. Stop. Singing."

"Long story short, this guy Voldemort was super cruel-"

"I would say super cruel. I did what I had to." Voldemort said defensively.

"He tried to kill me and my parents and this is where it gets intensely cool-"

"Why are you telling me this? I know it all already. I am the only person here – you don't have an audience!" Voldemort explained slowly. "And I succeeded killing your mother and father!"

"Even though I was a tiny little boy, I should have died but I survived and then destroyed this evil guy and it's a story I enjoy to tell..."

"I don't get what's 'cool' about that. I killed your parents, left you an orphan and turned into a spirit. Not the stuff of dreams."

"I'm Harry freakin' Potter!"

"I know!"

"They don't prefer Gandalf, Merlin, or Oz."

"How do you know that: have you performed a survey? 'Cause I've been seeing a bit of villainizing in the press recently."

"I'm a whole lot hotter!"

"Now that's a matter of opinion."

"Hey, I'm super mega foxy awesome hot!" Harry declared, outraged. "Ginny loves me! Cho Chang will love me... with her sexy southern accent…"

"I thought Cho Chang was Chinese?"

"That's Lavender Brown. Racist Voldemort!" Harry shouted, clapping his hands loudly. Voldemort looked unimpressed. Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably and pulled his tie up. "With this lightning scar, I'm a superstar to them all! If they're in trouble they know who to call!"

"…They're in trouble now. I'm back! The evil Dark Lord is back from the dead! Here to raise hell and just be a dick. And you're singing. What? Do you think I'll just _die i_f you do a Mexican wave?... Oh Merlin, you're trying it."

Suddenly, Harry drooped, dropping his head in sorrow.

"Oh Merlin's beard, you're bipolar, aren't you? Why do I get all the crazy enemies? Is it too hard to get a decent witch or wizard to exchange witty banter and spells with?" Voldemort shook his fist up to the sky.

"But this is all so sad, I mean, my Mom and Dad were killed, long ago..."

"No kidding! I did it!" Voldemort threw his hands in the air. "You have a short term memory, don't you? You've had ten years to get over this!"

"I wanna be psyched, but being disliked is all I know."

"What? You were going on about how amazing you were earlier! I mean; make up your mind. Are you happy your parents died, or are you sad?"

"I never thought I'd be a part of such a fate."

"What fate? You don't even know about the prophecy yet!" Voldemort gestured wildly, clenching angrily at something invisible.

"An opportunity eleven years late."

"Eleven years late? You'd be three then! Did you want a three year old to have to save the world?" Voldemort said, shaking his head.

"I guess it's time for me step up to the plate and show them that I'm something great!"

"I'm not impressed so far. I'll go with… no."

"I'm Harry freakin' Potter! I'll do what I can, if what you say I am is true!"

"I've said nothing, and I hate you. Before it was just a prideful, pissy 'grrr you killed me' kind of thing, but now it is a burning furnace of fury," Voldemort said flatly.

"I can't be bothered by my awful past."

"Make up your mind!" Voldemort screeched.

"I've found at last something I can do."

"What? Sing in front of your parent's killer? Because that's not going to pay the mortgage."

"So it's time I knew exactly who I am..."

"Harry. Freaking. Potter. You've told me. Four. Times." Voldemort punctuated. Harry looked taken aback. "Woah, chill man. Sheesh. Touchy."

There was a silence.

"By the way… Voldy can't kill, Voldy can't kill, even with a sure fire kill curse…"

"DAMN YOU!"


	41. Lazy Harry

**Harry cannot be bothered and go away Voldemort!**

* * *

"Urgh!" Harry moaned, flopping down on the floor. "That was exhausting."

"What was?" The Dark Lord asked confusedly.

_"Traveling."_

"But-"

Harry lazily chucked a rock towards Voldemort. It hit him between the eyes and he fell to the floor, dead.

"I _cannot_ be bothered with you right now."


	42. Mary-Sue Harry

**Someone gave me this prompt and I just cannot thank them enough. Thank you. Okay, so there are several versions and the different types of Mary Sues here. I was thinking of posting them in different chapters, but then I thought- nah! **

**Also, I am aware that this isn't technically a 'Harry' but you guys can forgive me, right?**

* * *

**Mary... Sues... the horror... arghhh! Seriously, Harry: ****_why?_**

* * *

"Sapphire Sparkle! You have unknown powers that for some reason mean you are the only one to defeat me!" Voldemort exclaimed evilly.

"Oh my goodness. I am shocked!" Sapphire said, blinking her rainbow-coloured eyes that changed colour whenever she felt sad or happy. She had gorgeous long blond hair that fell in natural ways down her back, and luscious curves in all the right places.

"But my love, my soul mate, my only reason to live; what will I do if you are not here to kiss me after our two day relationship?" Harry asked desperately.

"Baby, my boyfriend with a Quidditch-toned body, soulful emerald eyes and messy black hair, I must do this! I would die for you; my love at first sight."

"And I for you." Harry vowed, staring into her deep, turquoise orbs.

"I must do this, for reasons yet to be explained." Sapphire flicked her thick red hair over her shoulder and turned to the Dark Lord, her glowing beauty making even him breathless. "I will defeat you!"

"How?" He laughed even more evilly.

"With my phoenix/Merlin/unspecified power!" She cried angelically, her love for Harry unlocking her special magic which immediately made Voldemort die.

"You saved me!" Harry breathed, "And now we must be married and have children!"

"They shall have obscure names!" Sapphire decided.

"THIS MAKES NO SENSE! IT'S KILLING ME!" Wormtail screeched, throwing himself to the ground and clawing his eyes out.

"Even though he betrayed my parents, I forgive him," Harry said majestically, gazing down at the rat's pathetic form.

"How noble of you," Sapphire sighed, staring, yet again, deeply into his green pupils.

"I _am_ in Gryffindor," He nodded.

* * *

"I WILL KILL YOU!" Voldemort screamed, for some reason aiming at Harry Potter's useless girlfriend rather than him.

"Arghh!" Mysteria screamed, throwing her hands up. Harry leapt towards her, pushing her out of the way heroically, his hair blowing in the wind.

"You saved me," She fluttered.

"I'll always save you," he promised, his deep voice echoing through the place that they were fighting at.

"Oh Harry!" She sighed.

"Hang on! I'm going to betray my parents for you, a beautiful girl of unknown origins that I barely met!" Draco appeared out of nowhere, throwing himself to the ground at her feet, his gorgeous blonde hair styled to perfection.

"Oh Draco!" She sighed.

Suddenly, a gravestone nearly fell on Mysteria. She screamed, frozen in place yet again, but Draco grabbed her and held Mysteria to his muscled chest tightly.

"You saved me!" She gushed.

"I love you!" He said, his eyes welling up with manly tears.

"But so do I!" Harry protested.

Mystria looked between the insanely hot guys vying for her attention and started crying. "I can't decide!"

_omg u guys. which one will she end up wiv? put ur answers on reviews and when I get 14 ill write the nxt chpter!_

* * *

Holla drew out her sword, her black hair tied back in an intricate, yet practical style. Then she engaged Voldemort in a dramatic sword fight, you know, with slashing and fighting and all that stuff that I saw on the Lord of the Rings.

"Where did Voldemort get a sword?" Harry asked helplessly, watching from the side lines.

"I don't know! It's strange that he decied to use a muggle weapon over the one he so clearly believes is superior!" Areina bellowed, managing to be masculine and feminine all at once. "But it gives me a reason to show off, so..."

Finally she did the thing where you flip the sword out of a hand and did the stab thing.

"Where did you learn to sword fight like that?" Harry asked in wonder.

Areina bowed her head in grief. "My dead father taught me before he was killed by Death Eaters. My mother was raped and then similarly killed, leaving me with a burning desire for vengeance. I was then sent to an abusive foster home/orphanage where I learned to survive, and stayed on the streets in a gang."

"Whoa," Harry marvelled, "I feel a connection to you. Before I was suspicious of you because of your mysterious dangerous aura, but now I know your whole story I… I think I'm in love with you."

"I feel the same way!"

Then they shared a kiss full of passion, danger and heat.

* * *

Nyt kicked a gravestone out of anger, her leather boots looking awesome. She was wearing a black corset with red trim and a black tutu, with ripped tights and a skull and crossbones necklace, all from Hot Topic. She had white foundation and red lips, with black eyeliner and mascara. She was so depressed.

"This is rubbish. My parents abandoned me and now I cut myself!" She grumbled.

"I think you're so cool. Do you wanna be my girlfriend?" Harry, the hottest guy in school, asked.

"Sure," Nyt said with a confident smile, then hid it because she was emo, "God, I just wanna go home, worship satan and listen to MCR."

"We've gotta defeat Voldemort," Harry pointed out like a killjoy.

"Voldemort's such a loser," Nyt dismissed. "I could kill him in my sleep. Let's go snog."

"Okay!"

* * *

"You're such a geek!" Voldemort mocked.

"Yeah, you wear glasses and everything!" Wormtail agreed meanly.

"Don't worry," Harry assured Lucina, "I see beneath the weirdness to the awesome girl inside."

Lucina gave him a shy kiss and made a random insane comment. Harry laughed at her adorable awkwardness. Suddenly, Lucina took off her glass, put on some makeup and a beautiful dress described in excruciating detail.

"You look beautiful." Harry said in wonder, so obviously in love with this unique girl. "But of course I knew that already, which just goes to show that Brendan _will_ like me when my spots clear up and maybe even when I still have my braces on. Not all hot guys - like _ME_ \- are shallow and go for girls who are stunningly pretty."

"You're so right! They go for slightly plain girls who actually look really nice under the right lighting!" Lucina agreed.

"Not like Stacy." Harry shook his head.

"No, _not at all_ like Stacy, that _bitch_."

"I totally regret making fun of her," Voldemort sobbed.

"Me too!" Wormtail agreed.

"We're such pathetic losers!" They cried in shame and humiliation.


	43. Name Confused Harry

**Harry is cultural... ish and it's Vol-de-mort.**

* * *

"Hey Moldymort!"

"Voldemort."

"Sholdyshort… Voldetaught… Oldybought… Grouldysought… Poldyfought?"

"Voldemort!"

"Goldtrought?"

"VOLEMORT!"

"Volde…"

"!..."

"…Court?"

"Dammit! It's Vol-de-mort!"

"Joldyvort?"

"VOLDEMORT! VOL-DE-MORT!"

"That's a stupid name."

"… It's French."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"You're trying to take over Britain though, not France."

"Maybe, in hindsight, I was trying a little too hard to be mysteriously evil."

"Plus; 'flee from death?'"

"Shut up. No one speaks French."

"I do!"

"Well you're a smug little shit."


	44. Doctor Who Harry

**I imagine the 10th Doctor when I read this, but I suppose the 11th would work too if he;s your favourite! As you can tell, I'm a David Tennant sort of girl.**

* * *

**Harry is the Doctor's son and Hermione is his companion. Pretty simple, right?**

* * *

"May I present to you the fourth wonder of the Universe; the flying garden of Fant… ah," Harry scratched the back of his head sheepishly, peering out the door of the TARDIS, "Dad, I think I might have messed up."

The Doctor popped his head out too, and recoiled, "Yes. I think you might have."

"So where are we?"

"Do you know what? I'm not sure." He looked around with a vague expression. "I'm mean… I think we're Northernish… definitely on Earth…

"You can't be more specific?" Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Rose made me promise to stop licking thing! Unless…" A light blush coloured his cheeks. "Er… ROSE, RIVER, RANI!" He looked defensive at Harry's incredulous look. "What? You have a lot of mothers! MARTHA! DONNA!" he called out into the interior of the TARDIS.

"I think _my_ companion would be more helpful, dad," Harry said with a teasing smile, "Hermione!" He yelled.

"What?" came the exasperated reply as the bushy-haired girl joined them at the door. "Oh," She looked around, "_This_ isn't Fantaja."

"I know," Harry replied, running his fingers through his hair in frustration, "Then where _are_ we?"

She sighed. "Have you checked the scanners?"

Harry blushed, embarrassed, "Um, no?"

Hermione turned to the Doctor, an expectant look on her face.

The Doctor blushed, embarrassed, "Um, no?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Like father, like son," she growled, stalking to the console and turning the screen to face her. "Well, it's the twenty… fourth of June, 1995. We've landed in Little Hangleton graveyard, England."

"It's so not fair how you can read Gallifreyan and I can't!" Harry complained.

"_I_ don't have the attention span of a three year old," Hermione sneered. Harry looked disappointed, but brightened up when the Doctor ruffled his hair. "Don't worry, I was the same when I was 50!" His father assured him.

"You still are," Hermione muttered.

The Doctor began to pout, but froze as the struggle for remembrance showed on his face, "You know… I could have sworn something important happens here, on this day, in this place. I mean, it's ringing a bell..."

"Er, Doctor?" Hermione asked nervously, "The-the scanner. It's saying we were, er, brought here. By an unknown entity."

Harry turned around slowly. "Well that's not good."

"What could be strong enough to pull the TARDIS off track?" The Doctor wondered.

"Er, Dad?" Harry tugged on the Doctor's suit and nodded towards the figure slowly approaching them, "I think we might be about to find out."

The Doctor whipped out his sonic screwdriver and held it in front of him. The device started squealing, glowing… only to spark, nothing happening. The Doctor cursed and tapped it, holding it up to his ear. "This is not the time to have a tantrum," He scolded, "It's just a bit of magic."

"I thought you said it worked on everything but wood and deadlocks!" Hermione squeaked anxiously.

"Well maybe this particular person is deadlocked!" The Doctor snapped sarcastically.

"But you can't deadlock a person!" Hermione shrieked.

"I don't know then! Maybe they're made out of wood!" The Doctor hissed, pointing his sonic again, only to have it flicker on and off. "Get us out of here, Hermione!" He ordered.

"It won't work! The _thing'_s still holding it!" Hermione bashed on some keys to no avail.

"Harry?" The Doctor said pointedly.

"Er, Dad? You _still_ haven't taught me how to fly the TARDIS. You keep putting it off," Harry complained helplessly.

"Well I've _seen_ what you do to those cauldrons," The Doctor snarled, banging his screwdriver against his palm.

"Don't you have something else - a weapon maybe?" Hermione asked hysterically.

"In case you haven't noticed Hermione, I'm not a violent person." The Doctor spoke through gritted teeth. "It's a trait I'm hoping to pass onto my son!" The Doctor glared darkly at his screwdriver, stuffing into his coat pocket angrily. He glowered at the advancing figure, the fury of the last Time Lords fully unleashed. "You'd better stop right there, because I'm the Doctor, from the planet Gallifrey, in the Constellation of Kasterborous. I'm the Oncoming Storm, the Predator, the-"

"Sorry about this, Dad." Harry apologized, stepping forwards. He raised his hand, said a few words in Old English and the figure went flying backwards into a gravestone, hitting it with a sickening crack and crumpling to the floor. Harry shrugged bashfully in response to their astonished stares. "What? Merlin taught me a few things."


	45. Unspeakable Harry

**INFORMATION NOT AUTHORISED**

* * *

"Take his blood Wormtail!" Voldemort hissed, as Wormtail looked upon the nonchalant Harry Potter with trepidation.

"I'm sorry," Harry spoke in a clipped voice, "I'm not authorised to give out DNA samples."

Voldemort rolled his eyes at Wormtail and gestured towards Harry 'encouragingly'. Despite his second thoughts, Wormtail began to nervously edge towards the Boy-Who-Lived.

"If you come any closer, I'm going to have to take it as a violation of my contracted vows, and it will be permitted to use excessive and maybe even fatal force," Harry warned.

Wormtail took another step.

"Ah well," Harry sighed, before whipping a hidden wand out of his blue sleeve and firing a blast of super-secret-Unspeakable-life-death-magic-awesomeness. Wormtail crumpled to the ground, a shrivelled corpse.

"That was… pretty magnificent," Voldemort admitted reluctantly, "Do you think… you could teach me?"

Harry gave the Dark lord a pitying glance, "I'm not authorized to give out information except to tell you that I'm not authorized to give out information."

"But I'm the Dark Lord!"

"Thank you for confirmation, it will be most helpful in the records." Harry threw up a few hundred privacy wards and pulled out a mirror, "Unspeakable foyer, reception desk. Can you get me Mr Crowe?

"Mr Crowe? Yes, it's Mr Bolt here. I'm going to need a Prophecy. Row 97, S.P.T to A.P.W.B.D about Dark Lord and unknown. That's the one," Harry glanced at the baby-like Voldemort creature, "On second thoughts, get a team ready to escort a Mr Tom Riddle to the Death Veil. I want the paperwork to be done by the time I arrive.

"Also, get me my vault in an bag. Undetectable extension; that should do the trick. I mean, it's inevitable I'll trip and fall through the veil. It's the perfect opportunity for a crossover."


	46. Horcrux Harry

**Harry is a Horcrux and Voldemort isn't sure about the logic in that.**

* * *

"I know, it's a shame. You've really let yourself go."

_"…Who are you talking to?"_

"Oh, just the miniature you in my head. I'm a Horcrux. Because my mother's protection really falls to pieces when the dark, evil thing is inside me, for some reason. Never mind the fact that it worked against you when you were a phantom having fed on Unicorn blood earlier, which I would assume would be stronger than an accidental shard, but, you know; logic, who needs it? Also, I would assume the shard of your soul in my forehead is not a proper Horcrux at all, because you could just destroy it with a killing curse, and you can't do that to any of the others, can you? You need to Basilisk venom or some shit like that. It could be argued that the fragility of the container and the fact that I'm human affects how easily it's destroyed. But that would mean the diary could just be destroyed by setting it on fire. In fact, if I was a real Horcrux, I'd be pretty much impervious to almost everything, including all the minor injuries I've got over the years. But you know; who cares about making rules consistent?"

_"You're a Horcrux?!"_

"Yeah, I think so. When your soul inexplicably shattered (because how many other mothers have died for their babies?), for some reason a shard latched onto the only living thing in the room, not an inanimate object like all your other Horcruxes are. Except for Nagini. I never got why a paranoid Dark Lord would place a piece of his soul into a snake; wouldn't it just die of old age, and it's not very safe. Anyway, it latched onto me and; BOOM, instant mini Tom Riddle in my head."

_"… But why didn't he just possess and kill you?"_

"I dunno. At some point after trying to manipulate me, he felt some honest fondness for the 'pathetic muggleborn he'd chosen to help'."

_"I'd never do that. Mudbloods are there to be enslaved and killed!"_

"… Right. For yet another strange reason; the fact that he's got even less soul than you means he's less of a psychopath. Go figure. Also, he wants to kill you. Sorry about that."

_"What? But he's _my_ Horcrux!"_

"I know. Despite the fact that every other Horcrux has empathized and tried to help you even when they were just beings of maliciousness, this guy is actually pretty nice."

_"If you use math (and Merlin knows most wizards don't) he should have less soul than any of my other Horcruxes. Why would the third Horcrux I make be less sensible than my last unintentional one that I created when I was dying?"_

"… Something about feeding off life forces? Look, Tommy really wants to kill you for taking his spot as Dark Lord or something, so I'm just gonna let him possess me and.. yeah. That's pretty much it. Bye!"

"_Hey, come back! As a Horcrux, I'm going to fall in love with you!"_

"What? Isn't it a little bit like falling in love with yourself?"

_"Pfft, Severitus exists; I don't think we need to worry about the moral implications."_


	47. Bureaucrat Harry

**Hey guys; what happened to the last chapter? I'd had loads of response with the last ones, but this one just sort of… flopped. Not that I'm complaining or anything, but, you know; weird. Ah well, hopefully this one's better. :D**

* * *

**Harry loves paperwork and Wormtail's not that fond of it.**

* * *

"Kill the spare!"

"Um, excuse me? Have you filled out the appropriate forms to classify someone as a spare and then terminate?"

"Which forms were those?" Wormtail asked sheepishly.

"D17, file 4 and J78 part b."

"… No?"

"Well, then I'm afraid it's my duty to inform you that if you go forth with these actions, you'll be forced to fill out the previously mentioned forms and F63 part f and A23 through to A96 part g."

"I-"

"And C56."

"Can you just- I mean, I'll fill them out later." Wormtail said helplessly. "I've just got to do this ritual-"

"A ritual? Have you informed the Department of Magical Rites and Satanic Liturgy of this with 48 hours notice?"

"Not quite-"

"Have you gotten the written permission of every participant?"

"Not yet-"

"Have you performed the official safety protocols, had an inspector from the Department of Safety examine the area and submitted a script of the events at least 24 hours before the ritual is performed, and arranged for at least three officials from the Department of Magical Renewal and Rituals to be present?"

"Well, we have one coming later-"

"Hmm." Harry fixed Wormtail with a disapproving gaze. "I'm sorry to inform you, but I can't allow this ritual to go forward unless… is it Cheondoistic? Because I can make allowances if that's the case."

"I don't think so."

"Very well. In that case, I can arrange for the event to happen on the…" Harry flicked through the pages on his clipboard. "10th of May, next year."

"We kinda need it now-"

"Well I apologize, but if you'd just followed proper procedures…" Harry said pointedly.

Wormtail groaned wearily.

"Ok, fine. I can bump you up to January, but it'll have to be at 2, 2am, that is."

"Thank you," Wormtail sighed in relief.

"Alright, I'm going to need to you to sign here…"

"Right."

"And here…"

"Okay."

"And on this line- no, in the blue quill…"

"Right."

"And here and here…"

"Here?"

"No, that's where the official signs. Right… here."

"Here?"

"Yes, that line there."

"Alright… done!"

"Good. You'll also need to fill in these by tomorrow and submit them to the Department of Magical Rites and Satanic Liturgy." Harry dumped a huge stack of papers in multiple colours into Wormtail's arms. Wormtail stumbled under the sudden weight.

"The first 56 have to be done in a purple quill, the next 70 in a green capitals and the rest have to be done in a multi-coloured quill from Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, alternating through the rainbow every 3.5 lines." Harry said casually.

"Can you repeat that?" Wormtail said faintly, head spinning.

"I'm sorry, I have a board meeting in…" Harry checked his stopwatch, "half an hour. I'm hoping for a promotion, farewell!"

Harry disapparated in a whirl of feather quills and paperwork.

"Now, do I have to fill this out in a green quill or was it an orange one? And is this C17 or G17? The writing's all smudged…


	48. Therapist Harry

**Also, this was not meant to offend anyone who knows someone who has or has themselves a medical condition. I do not know anyone with schizophrenia, and this is probably an exaggerated case. I'm sorry, but all I have to work off is the NHS website! :) I've already offended one person today, I have no desire to make another enemy.**

* * *

**Harry is a therapist and Voldemort has issues.**

* * *

"Hello, Mr Riddle. I'm glad you could make our session today-"

"Yes- my session to destroy you!" Voldemort laughed maniacally, throwing his head back.

"I'm afraid you won't be killing me today."

Harry saw the Dark Lord visibly droop. "Oh."

"And how does that make you _feel_?" Harry asked.

"… Empty." Voldemort admitted.

"Hmmm…" Harry said, writing in his notepad.

_Obsessive_

"You've tried to kill me before, Mr Riddle. Why do you think it would work this time?"

"Because I am Lord Voldemort!"

_Inability to learn from mistakes_

_Irrational_

"You _are_ aware you are _not _a lord?" Harry said gently.

"Of course I'm a Lord! Lord Slytherin! My noble ancestors have granted me the title after my filthy muggle father-…"

_Delusions of grandeur_

"You mentioned your father," Harry interrupted. "Let's talk about him."

"My filthy muggle father was not worthy of the pathetic attention from my squib mother! It would have been better if they had never of met-"

_Abused?_

"Did you grow up with your father, Mr Riddle?" Harry conjured a sofa, which Voldemort sat down on without noticing.

"No, the bastard didn't even know I was alive until I tracked him down and killed him."

_Abused_

"He abandoned me to an orphanage where I ruled supreme. They couldn't hurt me when I had magic-"

_Abused_

_Attachment issues_

"Did you hurt them, Mr Riddle? The boys at the orphanage?"

"…Yes."

"But they hurt you first, didn't they?" Harry questioned soothingly, his green eyes filled with understanding.

"Billy Stubbs tried to push me down the stairs." Voldemort said childishly, his eyes staring at something no one else could see, swaying slightly as if following a person with his eyes. "And so I hurt him back."

_Hallucinations_

_Child-like mentality_

The Dark Lord snapped out of it, anger clouding his vision. "WHAT DID YOU DO? HOW DARE YOU?! WHAT MAGIC WAS THAT!?"

"That wasn't magic, Mr Riddle," Harry said patiently. "That was therapy. And don't worry, I'm under a strict vow of patient confidentiality, I can't reveal a thing. Now I suspect you have a serious case of schizophrenia. We can get through this, together, with prescribed medication and more sessions. You _do_ feel better, don't you?" Harry fixed Voldemort with a piercing gaze.

"Yes." Voldemort muttered reluctantly.

"Would you like to schedule another appointment?" Harry asked expectantly.

"… Yes." The Dark Lord forced out through gritted teeth.

"Good." Harry said, flipping open his diary. "I'll send you an owl-"

POP! POP! POP!

Countless Death Eaters apparated into the graveyard, all falling to their knees when they caught sight of their master.

"They're all out to get me!" Voldemort yelled. "Crucio! Crucio! Crucio!"

_Under the influence of alcohol?_

_… __Definitely schizophrenia._

"Um, e-excuse me? I-I think I h-have anxiety i-issues."

Harry looked up to see a shy-looking man (with a distinct rat look about him) shuffling his feet.

"I have a session at 3, if you're free."


	49. Ravenclaw Harry

**Harry is in Ravenclaw and Voldemort wishes he wasn't.**

* * *

"Excuse me?"

"Sh."

"But I-"

"Sh."

"It's just I-"

"Sh."

"Could you just-"

"Sh!"

"WILL YOU PUT THE BOOK DOWN PLEASE?"

"How dare you?! Do you know how long I've been waiting for this book? There are sixteen in the series! _Sixteen!_ And a continuous running mystery! That hasn't been resolved yet! So will you just shut up and let me finish in peace?!"

"… I'm sorry."

"You should be."

…

"Are you finished yet!?"

"No."

"How slow do you read? It's taking so long."

"It wouldn't be taking so long if you weren't interrupting."

"How long is this book anyway?"

"30 pages- each chapter."

"Urghh! This is going to take forever!"

"You dragged me away from reading, the least you can do is wait for me to finish my book."

"Damn logic."


	50. 50th Special

**Did you guys get the last chapter? I think there's a problem with the new chapter notifications on now. I really hate this site at the moment. Hopefully this one gets to you.**

**Anyway, I was going to just do an A.N, but I think that's against the rules and I hate A.N chapters on other stories so... here's a unique thingy I did about Harry Potter that's not in the graveyard. Aren't you lucky?**

**Also, 50th chapter so I have a legitimate reason! Yay!**

**Thank you to every single reviewer, follower and favourite-r! You made my day, each and every one of you. And special thanks to my beta RUGoing2writethat. You may only have started helping half-way through, but you've really made my chapter a whole lot better!**

* * *

Hermione watched Harry worriedly, "Harry, I really think you should recheck the instructions."

"But I just checked them," Harry bit his bottom lip worriedly, glancing to his left for support.

Ron clapped an arm around Harry's shoulder and laughed. "Don't listen to her, mate, you're doing great! Ha, that rhymed! I'm a poet and I didn't even know it!"

"Emily Dickinson was a poet. Edgar Allan Poe was a poet. _Shakespeare_ was a poet! _You_, Ronald Weasley, are most certainly not!" Hermione hissed angrily, crossing her arms huffily.

There was a silence, permeated only by Harry's confused mumbles.

Hermione followed the unsteady motions of Harry's ladle and twitched, desperately wanting to take over and stir_ in time_ godammit! "Please," she begged. "We'll get an A. _I'll_ get an A!"

"We're more likely to get a P," Ron sniggered, looking entirely unconcerned with his impeding failing grade.

Hermione looked as if she might faint.

"Besides, we agreed, didn't we?" Ron asked, fixing Hermione with a pointed stare, "If the ferret believed us-"

"I didn't think he'd _actually believe_ that muggles don't know how to make fire!" Hermione shrieked in a hushed voice, "They got that in the stone ages!"

Harry looked up confusedly. "What does Malfoy-?"

Hermione screamed and went to grab the handle, "Harry! Stir the other-"

Ron stopped her. "Uh uh. We agreed; no outside help."

"But it'll explo-" Hermione looked helplessly at the smoking cauldron, but Ron still didn't release her, taking in her expression with a smug grin. "We agreed," he said.

Luckily Harry noticed it was time to go the other way, prevented an explosion which likely would have turned everyone in the room into a pile of blackened ashes.

"This isn't the potion to experiment with!" Hermione muttered in consternation, glancing concernedly at the prowling Professor Snape.

"We said; next potion lesson. And this is the next potion lesson," Ron told her.

"I don't want to get a bad mark because Malfoy's an idiot! It had to be a one off- maybe he wasn't listening?" Hermione suggested optimistically.

"Hey Malfoy!" Ron shouted.

"Yes Weasel?" Draco Malfoy asked sneeringly, not looking up from his perfect potion.

"Muggles perform rituals sacrificing the blood of virgins for the favour of their bloodthirsty gods!" Ron told him cheerfully.

"How utterly barbaric of them," The blond sniffed, a disgusted expression on his face.

"Fine; A _twice_ off," Hermione forced out through gritted teeth.

Ron shook his head at her pityingly. "Hey Malfoy!"

"Yes Weasel?"

"Muggles burn vegetables in the hope that they will multiply in the fire!"

"How stupid of them!" Malfoy laughed mockingly, his minions barking out harsh coughs that might have been laughs.

"I just don't believe it!" Hermione gripping her hair, pulling at the roots. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her, "And when did you get so eloquent?"

"Neville," Ron shrugged.

Hermione looked incredulously at the shy boy who beamed at her, tipping his top hat. "Splendid to make your acquaintance this hour, Miss Granger, dear; I'm so sorry I haven't conversed with you on this fine day, I shall amend that as soon as I am done working on this potion!" He said, gestured towards his gleaming cauldron, a halo of light forming around his head.

Hermione turned around slowly, a slight blush on her face. "_Well._"

As they had been conversing, Harry had forgotten to turn the heat up by exactly 30 degrees- and a half. This caused a minor combustion which the Trio were only saved from by Hermione's quick thinking and shield charm.

Harry observed his smouldering potion glumly. "I knew it was too good to be true. If everything's going well, you're obviously overlooking something."

"Murphy's law," Hermione whispered, staring down at the spitting remains of her perfect average in dismay.

Ron was completely ignoring this exchange. Instead, he was hooting in glee at one Gregory Goyle bellowing like a baboon and patting his burning backside.

"How did you get so sadistic?" Hermione asked the red head.

Ron shrugged again, "Neville."

The look Hermione gave the well-dressed Neville Longbottom this time was a lot more apprehensive.

Neville smiled creepily. "Soon," he whispered.


	51. Reporter Harry

**Harry holds the power of the quill and - hang on? Naked pictures of Voldemort?**

* * *

Harry brandished his own version of Rita Skeeter's Quick Quotes Quill, a bright orange version that caused the Dark Lord to shield his eyes. "Potter?"

"It's Harry Potter, reporting for the Daily Prophet. Can I ask you a few questions, Mr Riddle?" Harry asked smoothly, hovering his quill over a notepad of magically replenishing paper.

"How do you know my true name!?" Voldemort demanded furiously, stalking towards the insolent brat. Suddenly, Harry pointed the end of the feather at the Dark Lord, and he felt himself slow down until he was completely still.

"How are you doing that?" Voldemort roared in denial.

"The power of the quill," Harry winked conspiratorially. Then he guided Voldemort towards a stone bench, forcing him to sit. Harry took a seat opposite. "And I have my sources. So, what have you been doing for the last few years? After your vanquishing, I mean. It must have been hard."

"You already know Potter. You… defeated me in your first year." Voldemort forced out bitterly.

"I meant before those silly little events! My readers already know about that. They want new, juicy details."

"… I was in Albania." Voldemort said cautiously. He spotted the quill scribble something that was definitely longer than that statement, and craned his head curiously.

**'The Dark Lord let a harsh sigh escape his lips. His red eyes blinked as they grew haunted, drifting to more troubled times. "I spent some time in Albania," he admitted darkly. Clearly, there was more to this story than he let on.**  
**And so, of course, I dug deeper.**  
**"It was difficult." The Dark Lord gave in, as I knew he would. "But I did a lot of thinking and I realized… I don't have to be evil."**  
**At this point, dear readers, I was just as shocked as you are. The famed Dark Lord; renouncing wrongdoing?**  
**But he confirmed that, indeed, his intention was a horse of that colour.**  
**"I finally realized that crime doesn't pay. And neither does killing people."**  
**"-Unless you're an assassin." I had to add at this point, and he laughed. It was at that moment that I realized how truly handsome Mr Tom Riddle is. Ladies, let me tell you, sweeping brown hair, sparkling ruby eyes and abs to die for, this man is not to be missed. Which is why I'm recommending him for the Top 10 Bachelor List in Witch Weekly. With the Lordship of Slytherin, a physique to make the hottest Quidditch star jealous, and a bad boy persona; Tom Riddle is exactly what you're looking for.**  
**He even has a soft side, which I discovered after questioning him on his childhood.**  
**"The boys in the orphanage were cruel," he sniffed, a manly tear welling up in his gorgeous eyes. "But I struggled through, and became someone. I think my perished mother would be proud."**  
**And if you're wondering why I'm calling the Dark Lord; Tom Riddle, it's because that's his true name. Behind his cruel exterior is a heart-breaking and yet inspirational story about overcoming expectations and rising to the challenge (pg 36-38).' **

"I said none of this!" Voldemort objecting, struggling against the quill's invisible hold (Harry had somehow managed to produce another Quick-Quick Quill from nowhere to write the article). "And what's this poppycock about 'a manly tear' and 'tragic backstory'?"

"My readers want to know the real you. They want to see the man behind the mask. They want to know you're human. Rehabilitated Dark Lords make wonderful biographies," Harry eyed the Dark Lord with a hungry look that caused him to feel extremely uncomfortable.

"That's another point- what nonsense are you going on about? 'Turning over a new leaf'- I want to kill you, Potter!" Voldemort blustered.

"Don't worry; the public will have forgotten all about that when we leak some nude photos of you- with a glamour on, of course," Harry declared, looking up and down Voldemort's snakeish appearance with disgust, "Bad boys sell papers. Evil bastards do not."


	52. Shakespearian Harry

**Harry's Shakespeare and Voldemort's a 14 year old girl.**

* * *

"What foul thing is't I see before mine eyes?" Harry reeled back dramatically. "He hath killed many, and it marks on his soul like stain on a shirt."

"… Who are you talking to?" Voldemort asked in bewilderment.

"Why, to mine gracious audience! They have gathered on this fine eve to observe my tale of tragedy. I find mine self indebted to each and every one."

"There is no audience Potter. It's all in your head."

"What nonsense is this? The man is mad… or else this is a dream. Is't, for I never predicted such an imaginary figment to be within mine ability. And yet, here thee stand, flesh and blood. Are thee real, or a figment of mine?" Harry reached out a trembling hand towards the Dark Lord, who batted it away in irritation. Harry jumped back again.

"Wherefore doth thou wear thine scales like a shroud of shadows? Dost thine not possess the ability through thine witchcraft to assume an alternate form? I see no reason why thine should become such a hideous creature!"

"Are you insulting my looks… in Shakespearian?" Voldemort asked incredulously.

"Twas indeed mine intentions. Dost thou find offence in it?"

"Yes! I didn't even mean to look like this- it just happened, okay? Stop insulting me!" Voldemort shouted sensitively.

"If I offend thee, I humbly beg thy forgiveness. I throw mine self to mine knees in woe and can only pray to the gods that thou wilt be merciful."

"Look, this is ridiculous. You speak like you're from the Elizabethan times. If anything, it should be me speaking like that. I'm the fifty year old here!"

"If't pleases you, permit freedom of speak to settle on thine tongue and converse with me in mine language. Verily, I would welcome the change. T'wears on mine mind to translate thou primitive tongue."

"Primitive!?"

"Aye, for I see no other explanation as to why dost thou drop and shorten thine words. Did thine mother never teach thee how to converse?"

"I was raised in an orphanage, Potter. I didn't know who my father was until I was sixteen."

"Ah, what a heavy tale. The bastard; deprived of parentage. T'was a blot on thine honour, I might expect."

"It was, actually," Voldemort sniffed, a tear rolling down his cheek.

"Come now boy, wipe away thine tears. I shall take thee as mine serving boy."

"I am most grateful for thine kindness." Voldemort bowed low.

"Aye sirrah. 'Tis but a small gift, and one I give gladly. Hie! We must away!"


	53. Vampire Harry

**Harry is a vampire. And not the Twilight kind.**

* * *

Harry swiped his tongue along the cut on his forearm and moaned in pleasure at the copper tang of blood.

Voldemort backed away.

Slowly.

Very slowly.


	54. Mother Hen Harry

**Harry is an awful lot like Molly Weasley and do you know what Voldemort needs?**

* * *

"Oh, your cheeks are so hollow! You look like a stick- have you not been eating at all?" Harry fluttered his hands as he took in Lord Voldemort's new appearance.

Voldemort rolled his eyes. "I've been possessing a stillborn child, so no, I haven't been eating."

"Oh that poor child," Harry began to sniff.

"Poor me! I had to survive off berries and I wore the same unwashed rags for months-"

"No!" Harry gasped, looking physically sick.

"Yes."

"I just- I-" Harry couldn't even muster up the words to describe how he felt. It was just so _horrifying._

"I never had any love as a child." Voldemort choked out. "I was raised in an orphanage alone. And every night I'd cry to myself because no one cared-"

"Oh my poor dear," Harry cooed softly. "I care." Harry pulled the Dark Lord into a tight hug, rubbing slowly on his back. This poor man had never had any hugs. If he'd just had someone to tuck him in at night then maybe he wouldn't be so evil-

And then Harry spotted Voldemort's smirk, reflected on a marble tombstone.

Harry pulled away slowly, taking deep breaths to control himself. "How. Dare. You." Harry spoke in punctuated anger keeping a tight grip on Voldemort's arm. "Did you think I could be fooled that easily? Did you think I was _naive?_"

Voldemort looking worriedly up at the gathering storm clouds in the sky and cowered away from the furious Boy-Who-Lived. "No- I mean I-"

"You have no respect!"

Voldemort nodded frantically.

"Do you know what young whippersnappers like you need?"

"…No?"

"Chores. Lots and lots of them. Oh just you wait. I'll have you clearing out the chicken pens, dicing the onions, degnoming the garden, washing up... you need love, young man. Good, _firm l_ove."

Voldemort squeaked as he was dragged away.

Wormtail sniggered. "Rather him than me."


	55. Sheldon Harry

**Harry is Sheldon and Wormtail/Luke Skywalker? What's the difference.**

* * *

"How interesting. Without your hand, you're just like Luke Skywalker."

An awkward silence.

"You're standing in my spot." Harry said stubbornly, narrowing his eyes at Wormtail. The rodent jumped where he stood, just under the shadow of a gravestone. "W-what?"

"That spot. It's mine." Harry repeated, stating it like it was obvious.

"I-I'm sorry? H-how can you own a spot?"

"That place is the perfect spot for the shade to reach and yet have the sun warm it to a temperature where I'm neither shivering nor is my skin crawling. It has the perfect vantage point to watch the Dark Lord's resurrection and be shielded from any stray spells he might be inclined to 'shoot off' after his little 'wake up'." Harry said with a patronizing smile.

"O-okay! F-fine! I-I'll l-leave the spot if it means s-so much to you." Wormtail scurried away to a different position, grumbling.

Harry looked smug and tried to move, but then sighed and stared down at his ropes as if they were personally insulting him. "Darn it. It appeared I am trussed up- like a turkey, one might say," Harry snickered.

Wormtail didn't laugh, and Harry looked frustrated. "That was a 'subtle' hint for you to untie me."

Wormtail ignored him.

"Hint, hint."

Nothing.

"Hint, hint… LAVENDER!" He rapped on the stone three times. "LAVENDER!" Knock, knock, knock. "LAVENDER!"

Silence.

"She'll be here in a moment," pause, "and you'll be kneed in a sensitive place, I can tell you!" Harry sniffed.

Wormtail snorted.

"Don't snort. It makes you seem even less intelligent than you already are. LAVENDER!" Knock, knock, knock. "LAVENDER!"

Voldemort rose from the cauldron covering his ears. "Will you stop that incessant noise, otherwise I'll rip your intestines from your stomach and choke you with them!"

"That seems like an uncomfortable way to die. Can I choose another option?"

"Urghh!"

"...I hope you sterilised that knife. I could get Hepatitis C, and then where would I be? Hopefully out of these ropes!" Harry laughed.

No one else did.

"It's funny because I was just kidding. If untreated I could get liver cancer and die. Ha ha ha.!

A long silence.

"Seriously, sterilize that knife..." said Harry.


	56. Angst Harry

**This is not trying to mock suicide, this is mocking _fanfiction_ about suicide. Suicide is a serious issue and not one I want to make petty.**

* * *

**Harry is depressed and Voldemort just wants to kill him himself.**

* * *

"I should just end it all-" Harry sobbed, holding the knife to his wrist.

"No no no!" Voldemort shouted, wrestling the blade from his grip. "That's my job!"

"Cedric is dead!" Harry cried, raising the gun to his head.

"Stop it! Just stop it!" Voldemort disarmed Harry and the firearm flew out of his hand.

"S-Sirius is dead!" Harry wailed, pointing his wand at his chest.

"That hasn't even happened yet!" Voldemort yelled in exasperation, disarming Harry yet again. "Why are you so depressed?"

"I love angst. I just love it. I don't know why, but seeing others brought to their lowest points just gives me a warm and happy glow inside." Harry choked out, popping the cork out of a phial of poison.

Voldemort groaned and knocked the glass out of Harry's grasp, letting it shatter on the floor. Then he paused, "Actually, it kind of makes sense-"

"Not you too!-"

"Shut up Wormtail. No really, I mean; you've gone through all kinds of shit. Killed someone at 11, almost died at 12, nearly had your soul sucked out at 13. You should be _way_ more messed up than you are- but that _doesn't_ explain why you keep writing all. These. Damn. Notes!" Voldemort tugged the quill away from Harry, who looked up at the Dark Lord with frantic and haunted eyes.

"Stop it!" Harry yelled, trying to keep hold of his writing implement. "I must write notes! So many notes! More notes! To everyone!"

"No!" Voldemort bellowed, finally taking possession of the quill, causing a hush to fall upon the graveyard. "No more notes! Just _stop_ with the goddamn notes! They are a literary device designed purely to cause sadness and pain. I declare; not any longer!"

Harry looked up with tears in his eyes. "B-but, I love to feel intense emotional death. It helps to clear my feels! Sometimes you just need a good cry-"

"And sometimes you don't!" Voldemort said harshly, snapping the quill in half and turning away in a dramatic swirl of black robes. Harry's haze of depression cleared for a second, just long enough for him to wonder _how_ exactly Voldemort and Snape did that.

Voldemort turned around, only to spot Harry wandering away slowly. "Where are you going?" Voldemort yelled.

"To find a bath tub!"

"Damn it!"


	57. Hideous Harry

**Harry's so ugly, godammit I just can't look...!**

* * *

_Crack!_

"Oh Merlin! Oh no! I can't look!" Voldemort cowered away and covered his face. "At least wear a mask or something-!"

Harry pouted, causing a crack to appear down the middle of a gravestone. "Hermione says I'm perfect just the way I am."

"Yeah, well she's a night troll." Voldemort rolled his eyes. "_Avada Kedavra!_"

"Ha! You missed!"

"That's because I can't look! Because of your horrible face!"

"Hey, you're no flower yourself."

"Sweetheart, compared to you, I'm Scarlett Johansson."

"… How do you know a muggle actress?"

"I get a lot of gossip magazines, okay?"


	58. Potioneer Harry

**So, my friends told me I have Peter Pettigrew hands today. Thanks guys! *sarcastic thumbs up***

**Anyway, thank you to all my reviewers! Every single one of you is a beautiful shining example of a human being, and I just love you all. Some of you have been here from the first chapter, some of you only joined in my journey recently. No matter the length, your support means everything to me.**

**… ****I imagine that speech done on a pedestal, with a spotlight and everything. Ah… where I belong. *gaze into the distance*.**

* * *

**Harry wants his award and Wormtail's going to help him!**

* * *

Harry surveyed the items set out on the grass and mentally ran through the possible rites to renew a body. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "This is fascinating," he murmured excitedly. "The chance to observe a ritual which hasn't been carried out for at least 70 years! And to be part of it too! I'll definitely be published in the Science Journal for this."

Wormtail looked confused. "Um, you _want_ to be part of the ritual?"

"Indeed! It'd be a unique opportunity to study magic in its root form!" Harry said enthusiastically. "Can I take notes?"

Wormtail raised his eyebrows. "If you want to."

Harry removed a notepad and pen from his pocket, looking up expectantly.

Wormtail waved his wand over the ground beneath Harry's feet, and from it rose a silvery white powder. "Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"

Harry frowned. "Aren't you going to measure that out? _Goldman's Guide to Potion Mastery_ states that 'adding the proper amount of ingredients is crucial in maintaining the consistency and proportions of a potion, ensuring the most effective results.'"

Wormtail recoiled. "Do you have that memorised?" he asked incredulously.

Harry shrugged. "Professor Snape wasn't being very fair in his marking, and so I resolved to raise the quality of my potion making skills. Now he can't give me any lower than an Acceptable."

"…Okay." Wormtail said uncertainly, and then looked sheepish. "And I, er, don't have any scales."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "You should have been prepared."

"Well I wasn't!" Pettigrew snapped. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly to calm himself. He shuddered and moved to the side of the huge black cauldron, holding his arm over the rim. He pulled a silver dagger from the swathes of his robes and placed the cold edge on his wrist, steeling himself for the task ahead. And then Harry spoke up.

"Why are you doing _that?_"

Wormtail growled. "What _now?"_

"The ritual calls for 'flesh of the servant, willingly given.' 'Flesh is the soft substance of a human or other animal body that consists of muscle and fat; for vertebrate, this especially includes muscle tissue (skeletal muscle), as opposed to bones and viscera.' There is most certainly bone in the hunk of meat you are about to chop off."

Wormtail turned slightly green at the Boy Who Lived's choice of words, but furrowed his brow nonetheless. "So what do you suggest I do?"

"Well, _ideally_ you should have prepared the meat beforehand (ha- get it?)…"

"Well I didn't." Wormtail said flatly.

"I know." Harry rolled his eyes. "The rite _also_ involves 'blood of the enemy, forcibly taken,' which wouldn't work either, as I am perfectly willing and extremely enthusiastic. Shame, there goes my _Quae Studia_ award." Harry sighed wistfully.

"We could always reschedule it…" Wormtail offered reluctantly.

"Oo! Could we?" Harry perked up. "I'll bring along an unwilling victim!"


	59. Drunk Harry

**Harry's hammered and Voldemort's basically his mum.**

* * *

"Ha!" Harry barked out a harsh laugh and swayed slightly. "You got no nose! How do you smell?" he slurred.

Voldemort looked bewildered and rather angry. "I-"

"You don't!" Harry interrupted, giggling. "Because you have no nose- hic!" He fell to the floor, clutching his stomach.

"Are you drunk?!" the Dark Lord spat, staring down at the dribbling boy with an expression of disgust.

"No," Harry said stubbornly, trying unsuccessfully to clumsily hide his bottle of Firewhiskey behind his back as he staggered to his feet.

"Well take a Sobering Potion!" Voldemort snapped, crossing his arms imperiously. "I don't need an inebriated fool for an enemy!"

"I'm not a fool," Harry supported himself on a nearby stone angel. "I'm just very, very, very, very, very, very…" Harry's eyes crossed and he shook his head to clear it, "very happy! Very happy are me! Happy, happy, happy…" Harry began to sing blearily, doing a strange sort of bobbing dance; which only made him lose his balance. "Because I'm happy… clap along if you feel like... happiness is what you wanna do," Harry went to clap but couldn't. He stared at the half-empty bottle at his hand in confusion, and then shrugged and took a swig.

"And why are you drunk?" Voldemort stared down his nose at Harry (well, he would've if he'd had one) disapprovingly. "You're underage."

"Are you bloody kidding me?" Harry asked incredulously, shaking his Firewhiskey. "I'm in a bloody tournament where I could die any second. I resur… I resurrect... I reserve! That's it; reserve the right to get pissed. Plus, I'm in a thingy for over-aged people so it's legal! Ha! Those morons!" Harry collapsed into peals of laughter again. They tapered off and he focused on the snake-faced man in front of him. "I bloody love you, you know? You're my best friend! You've always been there, every year without fail." Tears of emotion welled in the corners of Harry's eyes. "You're just so… bloody… depend… able." Harry's eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped against the stone, sliding down the marble surface.

Voldemort stood, staring at his nemesis' snoring form. He looked towards Wormtail, hoping for some support, only to find his 'devoted' servant skipping around the cauldron and pouring in various mixtures, singing 'Drink up me hearties, yo ho, yo ho!"  
The Dark Lord sighed and decided he couldn't be bothered. He pointed his wand at Potter. "Crucio!"

Harry awoke with a snort and a confused whimper. He sat bolt upright, but immediately clenched his head, sinking back down onto the grass with a pained groan. "You can stop that, okay?" He said grumpily, voice muffled by the fact that he had his head buried in his arms. "My fracking head hurts far more than any torture charm you could cast. Ow! Merlin! Just make it stop!"

"Okay!" Voldemort said cheerfully, starting forwards. "Avada Ked-"

"I didn't mean that!" Harry complained, holding out an arm defensively. "I have a hangover! Just ignore everything I say for the next few hours. Unless you could bring me an Hangover Remover?"

"You brought this on yourself. "Voldemort said smugly, purveying the fallen form of his pathetic enemy. "Now you deal with the conse-"

"Blarrrghh!"

"Hey, those were my feet!"


	60. Geek Harry

**THIS HAS SPOILERS FOR AGE OF ULTRON (I THINK)! SPOOOOOIIIIILLLLERS! S-P-O-I-L-E-R-S! MEANING THE LEAKING INFO THAT MIGHT BE CORRECT ABOUT THE UPCOMING AVENGERS 2. I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH! SPOILERS!**

* * *

**Harry is a fanboy and Voldemort is scared. Seriously.**

* * *

Voldemort stepped out of the cauldron. Finally, victory! He stretched his neck, narrowing his eyes as he scanned his surroundings for the Boy Who Lived. Surely he would be waiting, arrogant and defiant until the very end?

Instead, the sight of a thin and gangly teenager, clad in a Thor t-shirt and skinny jeans, greeted Voldemort. He was tapping his converse- and was that Wonder Woman on the fabric, flashing her large breasts at the Dark Lord? The boy was singing something quietly as he looked around interestedly. Voldemort could catch the occasional word ('defying gravity!' or 'I'll never know').

Voldemort coughed pointedly, catching Harry's attention.

"Oh hello, this is like something off Supernatural- Rassilon! You look like you stepped right out of Doctor Who!" He said (and _why_ did Voldemort feel a slight twinge of fear when he spied the glint of glee in his enemy's eyes?)

"Well," Voldemort said uncomfortably, "Let's get onto the important things, shall we?"

"Oh yes!" Harry leaned forward (something in the animalistic anticipation radiating from the Boy Who Lived causing Voldemort's newly-created heart to race). "So, what do you think of Age of Ultron?"

"Hang on- what?"

"I mean, I'm trying to stay away from spoilers, but you can't help but hear things, can you? I've heard that Ultron is going to be Tony Stark's head AI, but I'm not sure how that's going to work, because he'll just be another ordinary human. They've practically destroyed Iron Man, and I don't know if they're going to bring him back or not. But you know, anything with Robert Downey Junior in it can't be bad. I mean- he's awesome! And _Merlin_ do I hope they do something more with Black Widow. She's a fascinating character and she was brought in for nothing more than pouting in Iron Man II. But no one liked that film. She was expanded upon in Avengers and Winter Soldier, but I still think they could do so much more! And Hawkeye! Where was he in Winter Soldier?"

"I-"

"Actually, no, I don't even care what they do! Loki _must_ come back! Age of Ultron will be _nothing_ without Tom Hiddleston in all his sexy glory! I demand it! Do you hear me, Marvel? I _demand_ it!"

"You really think these 'Marvel' are going to listen to one as pathetic as you?" Voldemort sneered, trying to regain some control in uncommon (and slightly terrifying) territory.

"You know, you remind me of Loki. You both have a neglectful back-story," Harry said thoughtfully, tilting his head to one side. "The fandom would _devour_ you. You and Tom Hiddleston even share a name, and you looked kinda similar when you weren't all… snaky," Harry gestured towards the Dark Lord's face.

"Is that a compliment?" Voldemort asked uncertainly. He had no idea if being like this 'Low Dee' person was something to be celebrated. It couldn't be, if it meant being associated with one named 'Tom'. No matter what the old fool claimed, that was _not_ his name. Not anymore.

"Of course! Do you know how many pages there are, dedicated to him? He is Tumblr _royalty_. I even have my own Pop Up Hiddles. You should get one, they're possibly the most beautiful things I've ever seen in my life," Harry let out a dreamy sigh.

"So, you have a miniaturized version of this man who appears randomly at different moments in time to amuse you?" Voldemort questioned, trying to wrap his head around the notion.

"_Destiel_, it's on a computer screen," The teenager explained slowly.

"And he screams?" Voldemort said loudly, clearing his ears out.

"Old people and technology," Harry despaired, rolling his eyes.

"Hey! It was a lot simpler in my day! We had Charles Dickens and Sherlock Hol-"

"Sherlock!" There was a fire in Potter's eyes that made Voldemort stumble back, cowering. "A single episode at Christmas isn't enough! I cannot wait until 2016! I just can't!" Harry started advancing towards Voldemort, arms outstretched like he wanted to either shake him, hug him or choke him.

"Just calm down-" Voldemort tried to reassure the Boy Who Lived, the madness prominent in his features considerably alarming.

"If I have to wait two more years, I might just kill someone."

Voldemort believed him.


	61. Narrator Harry

**Harry''s life is like a film, and Wormtail? Well, he's fallen asleep. There's always one.**

* * *

_"I can still remember that cold graveyard to his very day. There's nothing like the freezing breeze in a graveyard to chill your bones right to the very core, and this particular graveyard had a grimmer history than most._

_"Thomas and Mary Riddle were their names, and they had a son. And that Tom Riddle met a girl on the side of the road. And he took a sip of water from her cup, which is something you should never do. But Tom was arrogant. He drank and fell under her spell, for Merope (and that was her name) was a witch. Not an especially powerful one, mind you; but a witch all the same. And together they conceived a son, who was bound to be yet another Tom in a long line. But the spell fell, and Tom rejected his wife and went back to his parents, back to his life of luxury and leisure, leaving Merope dying and pregnant. And then she had a child, and that child grew up abused, as orphans in that era often did. And then he returned to his father's little house of safety, and killed him and his grandparents in a single spell. That was it, a flash of green light and they were gone. And as they were dead people, they were buried. And as they were buried, they had graves._

_"And Tom Riddle Senior's grave was what I stood on, as Peter Pettigrew (you remember him, don't you? The rat man? Ah, good.) bound me to the cold marble. I swear I can still feel the ghost of those bonds, rubbing my skin raw as I struggled in terror. But the ritual (I had been brought to that godforsaken place for a reason, of course) went forth and in dropped in bone, flesh and blood. _My_blood. It was horrific, watching the bubbling water in the cauldron as I prayed to god for the thing to have drowned._

_"But it didn't, and it- or rather, _he_\- rose. And he did so in style. With scarlet eyes blazing and chalk white skin glowing under the moonlight, he spoke in the silkiest of voices. He said, "Harry Potter. We meet again."_

_"And that, kids, was how I met your mother."_

"Shit."


	62. Animagus Harry

**How old would you guys say I am? I'm not going to tell you my real age, for obvious reasons (like murderous people who can kill with just a number and a country), but I'm curious! :)**

* * *

**Harry has multiple animagus forms and- how does this solve the problem again?**

* * *

"Hey!" Harry put his hands to his hips. "Do you know what would solve all this?"

"No…" Cedric said cautiously.

"Multiple animagus forms!"

"What?" Cedric asked incredulously. "Animagus forms don't solve anything! If they did, every wizard would have one! But they don't! And having a different animal body doesn't make everything better. Sure, there are some advantages, but with every bonus you get a minus, like the lack of opposable thumbs for claws, or resilience under heat for vulnerability to coldness. Also, you can't have multiple animagus forms! Animagus forms are at least connected to your most key attributes, as shown by the Marauders, and to have more than one key attribute would mean your personality is really spilt. You'd have to have MPD or something!"

"How do _you_ know about the Marauders?"

"They weren't a very good pranking group Harry, everyone knew about them and referred to them by their 'secret' animagus names (according to every Marauder Era fanfiction.) Anyway, since when does this fanfiction care about logic? Have you _read_ the Turtle chapter?"

"Breaking the fourth wall there, Cedric."

"I thought it was about time."

"Anyway, logic doesn't matter! Have you seen how awesome my forms are? They're like the crazy fantasies of a 14 year old. They don't even correspond with any part of my personality, but it doesn't matter because they are. So. Freakin'. Awesome."

"Fine, I can see you're dying to show me." Cedric sighed, giving in.

"Okay, so first you have my notoriously dark form that will mean I get banished or thrown in Azkaban by the Ministry after numerous slanderous newspaper articles." Harry scratched the back of his head. "Eh, I'm not sure how they find out, since I don't exactly register, but you know. And I'm most likely to come across some vampires named the Cullens. They'll get how misunderstood I am."

"The Cullens…" Cedric stared into the distance thoughtfully. "Seems familiar…"

"Can't be," Harry dismissed. "You've never met them."

Cedric shrugged helplessly.

"Anyway, for my dark forms I've got the Grim, which will immediately get me banished beyond the veil, even though Sirius had exactly the same form and Dumbledore never dobbed him in. I've also got the Shadow Panther, a form which allows me to pass through shadows. Of course, anything remotely dark has to be evil, even though shadows are caused by light. Then I have the numerous forms that are dark just by putting a black-sounding word in front of an animal, like a Night Python, or a Doom Elephant.

"I've also got my exotic animal, like a cheetah or an eagle. Nothing wrong with these, except the fact that I get so many and the ridiculous Marauder name I get for each, never to be used again.

"Then there's my extinct magical form, like the Shadow Pheonix or the Rainbow Basilisk. We have to do hours of research to even find out what it is and everyone's so amazed by it, and it's just more proof that I'm the awesome Boy Who Lived.

"And then there's my light magical form which Hermione can't believe because 'no one's ever had a magical animagus form before, Harry'."

"Great," Cedric said, deflating in relief. At least this would be easy. "So how are you going to defeat You Know Who?"

"A wizard duel, using none of my animalistic attributes." Harry shrugged nonchalantly

"Oh Merlin."


	63. Supernanny Harry

**The Step is the naughty step, which is where you have to sit on the stairs alone and think about your actions. It's how I was punished a lot as a child. :)**

* * *

**Harry knows just want to do, and Voldemort cries.**

* * *

"Hello today, Tom." Harry knelt down and pushed the folds of fabric aside, peering into the tiny face of Lord Voldemort.

"What are you doing, Potter?" Voldemort spat. "I'm not four."

"If you possess a baby's body, I'll treat you like one." Harry said patronizingly.

"It was stillborn! Why do I have to be punished for taking control of something that was already dead?" Voldemort whined pathetically, trying helplessly to bat Harry's hands away or reach for his wand.

"Because it was _wrong._ And _what_ do we say when we do something wrong?" Harry asked sternly, speaking extremely slowly.

"_I_ don't know," Voldemort muttered mutinously.

"_Tom,_" Harry warned.

Voldemort folded his arms stubbornly and rolled his eyes. "Apologize," he said reluctantly.

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"So I'm _sorry,_" Voldemort sneered, glaring into Harry's green eyes.

"And what are we sorry for?" Harry dug deeper.

"For possessing a stillborn baby," Voldemort snapped, clenching his miniature fists.

"And?"

"Murdering it's mother." Voldemort admitted sullenly.

"And what _specifically?_"

"For making her gaze into the eyes of her dead child as she took her last pained breath." The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes resentfully at the calm Boy Who Lived. Why was he so irritatingly unaffected?

"Good. And what else?"

"Merlin, are you going to make me go through every bad deed I've ever done?" Voldemort demanded, his eyes filling up with embarrassed tears.

"Come on, now." Harry soothed. "You need to know what you've done wrong."

"I'm sorry for killing the Jigglypuff over there. I'm sorry for killing Bertha Jorkins. I'm sorry for killing Frank Joyce! I'm sorry for murdering your parents! I'm sorry for torturing my Death Eaters. I'm sorry for the countless others that died under my reign of terror! I'm sorry for killing that Myrtle girl! I'm sorry for creating Horcruxes! I'm sorry for terrorizing Dennis Bishop and Amy Benson! I'm sorry for hanging Billy's rabbit. I'm sorry for stealing Lucy's harmonica! I'M SORRY FOR NOT HANDING IN MY ENGLISH HOMEWORK IN YEAR 4! THERE! ARE YOU HAPPY NOW! MY GREATEST CRIME! I JUST COULDN'T BE BOTHERED! NOW WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO- CRUCIO ME?!"

Harry picked up the heaving form of Lord Voldemort and cradled him to his chest, rocking him side to side. "Shush shush," he told him in a comforting low voice. "I forgive you."

Voldemort gazed up at him with vulnerable red eyes. "You… do?"

"Of course I do! But you still need to be punished…"

Voldemort took a sharp breath and lowered his head.

"I believe… the Naughty Step should do it."

Voldemort's expression was one of pure horror. "Not _The Step._"

"Oh yes...**The Step.**"

"Please! Have mercy!"

"You are going to reflect on your actions."

"NOOOOOOOOOO! Please have mercy!"

"You will think of what you have done!"

"Arghhh!"


	64. Voldemort's Heir Harry

**S****orry**** for the reposting, but I've been having some problems with the notifications. Sometimes I hate this site.**

* * *

**Harry's Voldemort's son and the whole things a mess.**

* * *

"My son!" Voldemort cried and flung his arms around a bewildered Harry.

"What?" Harry asked in confusion, awkwardly trying to wriggle out of the Dark Lord's grasp.

"My precious heir, the love of my life!" Voldemort bawled. "My most treasured snake! We'll do bonding stuff and torture muggles together and- oh!- this will be so much fun!"

"B-but I was your enemy! You tried to kill me!" Harry said, wincing as the tight hug threatened to crack a few ribs.

"None of it matters now that you are of my own blood!" Voldemort dismissed, covering Harry's grimacing face with numerous pecks.

"B-but you murdered your own relatives!"

"it doesn't matter! I shall love you always! I swear!" Voldemort gazed heroically into the distance, his sudden thick hair flowing in the wind as he created the perfect picture of the perfect father. "I shall be devoted, and kill my servants for you- look! _Avada Kedavra!_"

Wormtail crumpled to the ground.

"I _did_ hate him…" Harry allowed, "But blood doesn't equal love!" Harry scoffed, finally wrestling himself out of the Dark Lord's tight grip. "The Dursleys proved that."

"Where are these Dursleys!?" Voldemort roared, "I shall murder them horrifically!"

"You _know,_" Harry remarked thoughtfully, "Against my inherent nature, I feel the urge to help you. Perhaps I shall even impress Bella!"

"Now you're finally acting like the Dark Lords heir," Voldemort spoke in a baby voice, whilst he rubbed on Harry's nose.

"Hang on- you tried to kill me!" Harry shook himself out of his daze of inevitable evilness (because all darkness is inherited).

"It was all a ploy!"

Harry raised his eyebrows disbelievingly.

"Uh, I didn't know you were my son?" He tried again.

"But surely you should have known that you'd slept with my mother!" Harry pulled at his hair in frustration.

"It was a passionate night of hazy love-making! We were both so shamed that we agreed never to speak about it again!"

"First off, eww, That's my _mum_ you're talking about. Secondly, there's no way Lily Evans would have slept with the Dark lord that (probably) killed her parents! Thirdly, there's no way that the Dark Lord would ever sleep with a mudblood!" Harry crossed his arms stubbornly.

"I had a change of heart!"

"You killed her!"

"I had… another change of heart? Look, Bellatrix was being jealous- but she'll love you, I promise-"

"You tried to kill me!"

"It was an accident!"

"You ordered your servant to strangle me!"

"Crikey, you're right, that's a little hard to explain... Well… um… Dumbledore's evil!"

Harry shrugged. "That works for me. Dumbledore's evil!" He shouted in agreement.

"DUMBLEDORE'S EVIL!" Voldemort cried triumphantly.

"I'm so Dark!" Harry bellowed!

"Yeah, you go son!" Voldemort enveloped him in another tight squeeze. They both put their arms around each others shoulders and walked off into the sunset.

"I'm pretty sure this goes against every single one of my morals…" Harry remarked distantly.

"Nah. Just forget the parents that sacrificed their lives for you and you've idolized for years. You're on the Dark Side now!"

"Yay!"

They did a jumping high five, and all was well, because Dumbledore was evil and so, in a way, the Light Side was too. Don't feel sorry for their deaths. Really; don't. Because Harry had his dad back. His dad that tried to kill him. His murdering dad.

But still his dad.

"You know, this pretty much solves the nature vs nurture debate," Harry's voice could be heard faintly as he and his new-found father skipped happily into the town of Little Hangleton.

"It's a village!" Wormtail shouted at the author.

How are you alive?- Ah well. Wormtail promptly died, and all was well. (Well, except for the thousands of innocents that died in the consequent slaughter by the now immortal Harry and father).

But who cares about them, right?


	65. Secret Agent Harry

**Harry's 007 and Voldemort's not impressed.**

* * *

"007, we meet again," Voldemort said, swiveling around in his conveniently placed rotating chair (which looked a little out of place in a graveyard). He was stroking Nagini's forehead so sexually that the agent wondered if he had a fetish for snakes.

"Indeed, Mr Voldemort." The figure shrouded in shadows moved forwards, slinking like a cat as he moved in on the Dark Lord, gun trained steadily. "I'm here to kill you."

"Expelliarmus! Lumos!"

"Goddammit!" The secret agent cursed as the graveyard lit up and his face was revealed.

"Potter!" Voldemort gasped. "I didn't expect it at all!"

"You _should,_ you know. I've been going around introducing myself by my name for ages now."

"Huh, rubbish secret agent." Voldemort said condescendingly.

"Mmm," Harry mused, his gaze drifting over to where his gun had fallen, several feet away.

"Don't even try," Voldemort warned, wand appearing out of his robe sleeve.

"I received intelligence that you were waiting for my blood and wouldn't be reborn yet," Harry said, trying to subtly edge towards his fallen weapon.

"I decided that was stupid, so I tortured a muggleborn and used their blood. Pretty fool-proof plan."

"Yes, that _is_ more sensible…" Harry slumped. "Well, you know my 'secret' identity now, so I'm stumped. I _would_ obliviate you, but the knowledge of how to do that spell apparently just disappears from your brain. Kinda ironic really. Y'know, you cast it and you just forget everything about it. Like the theory and wand movement and how not to mess up people's minds so they don't turn criminally insane."

"…That's not true." Voldemort furrowed his brow. "It's completely _easy_ to perform that spell. Even failures like that Lockhart fellow can do it."

"It _is_ true too, Hermione told me so! She even practiced on her parents and _poof!_ the information on how to do it again was gone in an hour."

"She practiced on her _parents?_" Wormtail piped up, glaring jealously at Nagini from the shadows.

"Yeah, well. License to mess with muggles and all that."

"Merlin, you get _so_ much freedom." Voldemort leaned back and shook his head jealously. "Running an evil business is such a burden."

"_You_ haven't _seen_ the paperwork." Harry shuddered. "The Department of Magical Rites and Satanic Liturgy is a bitch."

"I got that joke! It was a reference to chapter 47!" Wormtail smiled proudly.

"Shh!" Harry narrowed his eyes in irritation. "That was subtly and cleverly breaking the fourth wall. I wanted to see if anyone would notice!"

"Oh, sorry."

"You should be."


	66. Forced Marriage Harry

**This may be shown in a comic manner (albeit more serious than my previous chapters), but I just want to make sure tat everyone understands the severity of forced marriages dealt with in this chapter.**

**And that's what I see the marriage law or forced bonding as. It is forced marriage, no matter how much it is glossed over with 'oh! It's the law so it's alright'. It's legal today in** **in parts of South Asia, East Asia and Africa, but that doesn't make me feel any less disgusted when I see 12 years old forced to marry men five times their age and bear them children. Especially when one of the pair is under-aged and the other is over, leading (especially in Hermione/Death Eater) to rape. This is statutory rape and wrong. I adore fanfictions that use this in a darker way, but the ones where they fall in love and everything is fine because they can get over the traumatic experience either both or one have experienced make me feel sick.**

**Sorry for the rant, but I feel really strongly about subjects like this. Anyway, I highly recommend 'How Dumbledore Destroyed the Wizarding World' by dreamjanus, as it deals with forced bonding in a very realistic and twisted way.**

**I can't find all of the legal information, so some of the terms I use may be inaccurate, but I hope the message still shines through.**

**And if you're not mature enough to handle rape as a serious issue, I suggest you skip this chapter and take a good look at yourself.**

**But in other news, I'll be back soon with a lighter chapter! ;)**

**Or I might write one on forced bonding. I'm in the mood for it now.**

* * *

"Where's Wormtail?" Voldemort asked, looking around in confusion.

"Engaged to Lavender Brown."

"What do you mean, he's-"

"Shh!" Harry said, not looking up from the sheaf of paper in his hands.

"Excuse me?" Voldemort said, placing a hand on his hip.

"I'm running through a list of possible candidates for my upcoming marriage- oh for goodness sake! _Snape?_ I'm _fourteen_, he's the same age as my parents would have been!" Harry said, disgusted.

"What's going on?" Voldemort asked, unsure of what was going on. What was that mention of his servant? Marrying Potter?

"The Ministry's introduced a law where all children aged however old I am have to get married to a pure/half blood partner. They say it's in order for the purity of future generations to be ensured, but there's some political jargon that gets skimmed over basically equating to the Ministry's evil and hates children. Just, generally despises them. Or they want the Potter money… for some reason. I mean, we're not _that_ rich, are we?"

"But people won't stand for this!"

"These are the same people who are perfectly willing to sit back and watch a 14 year old do their dirty work for them," Harry shook his head in despair, "I swear the whole Wizarding world is a bunch of sociopaths."

"But that mudblood friend of yours will surely fight!?"

"Nah, she's decided to go along with it. Apparently the House Elves deserve better treatment than _us._ She's marrying some Death Eater or something. I just _know_ she's going to get Stockholm's Syndrome and the author will pretend it's a perfectly healthy relationship: 'Look! He's stop raping and torturing her daily! It's true love!' and all that bullshit."

"B-but this is inhumane!" the Dark Lord protested.

"Tell me about it," Harry muttered. "They'll be coming for you next," he warned darkly. "And I bet it'll be me you're paired with."

"They can't! It's a violation of my basic human rights!" Voldemort backed away.

"You think _that_ will stop them?- Oh for Merlin's sake!" Harry threw his arms in the air, growling in frustration.

"What?" Voldemort asked cautiously.

"They want me to marry Malfoy! And they say they want to repopulate… Wouldn't it make more sense to pair me with a_ girl?_ All in all, it just sounds like a rather convenient plot device to get two mortal enemies married. And have sex, of course. Mustn't forget the sex. Because your first instinct after being forced into an under-aged marriage is, of course, to hump like bunnies."

"But surely the purebloods will complain? They don't want their children to be married to some filthy impure mudbloods."

"You'd think so," Harry sighed. "Suddenly being married to the Boy-Who-Lived-After-He-Destroyed-Your-Master is more important than the cause they follow that master for."

"So what will you name your kids that you'll be forced to have in an awful situation which could probably be construed as some kind of sexual assault or rape?" Voldemort asked, settling on a gravestone, strangely resigned to his fate. He didn't even try to run, or anything! Because, really, how bad can forced marriage _possibly_ be? It _certainly_ doesn't result in life-long trauma or suicide. This fanfiction _definitely_ is not undermining the impact a situation like this can have on the human mind. Because they'll fall in love- honest!


	67. Arrogant Harry

**Harry has swag. Swagger swagger swagger.**

* * *

"Oh watch out Harry," Ginny simpered, fanning her face with her hands as she watched her amazing boyfriend stroll down the path, Ginny left hovering by the gate.

"Don't worry Gin! I'm the Boy Who _Lived,_ not the Boy Who _Died!_ I'm the chosen one! The big cheese! The Hannah Montana of the Wizarding world. I am Rhianna- no, I'm _Beyoncé._ What could _possibly_ hurt _me?"_

_"Stupefy!"_

Harry swayed slightly, a dazed grin still plastered to his face. "I let that happen," he mumbled as he fell flat onto his face with a thud.

Wormtail stared at his master's enemy's body, nudging it cautiously with his foot. "Huh. That was easy."

"Stop showing off, Wormtail."

"Sorry Master." Wormtail pouted as he stopped the twirls and lowered Harry's body. "I got drunk on power."

"Just don't do it again."


	68. Multiple Harry

**WARNING: This chapter is extremely confusing and will mess up your head!**

* * *

**You guys, I GOT 1000 REVIEWS! WHOO! YAY! Okay, so to say thank you and to do a special little thing, I wrote a chapter where almost all the Harrys come together. It's not stated explicitly who they are, but can you guys guess?**

**Also, I WILL BE BACK FOR A NEXT CHAPTER! AND TO GIVE YOU GUYS A PREVIEW FOR BEING SUCH BEAUTIFUL READERS I SHALL TELL YOU IT WILL BE!**

**Drum roll please...**

**Crazy Cat Lady Harry!**

* * *

**Everyone's here and Voldemort just can't take it.**

* * *

Voldemort's eyes grew cloudy as he listened to Harry rant on and on and on…

"Apparently Cedric's death will affect me more than my parents' does… due to some rubbish about 'acceptance'. It's ridiculous, I mean I'm still having nightmares about _Cedric'_s death when I see the Thestrals, not my parents'. And it can't be something about children never truly understanding their mother's deaths, because Luna can see them and it was her mother who died-"

Voldemort shook himself awake. "Wait a moment- how do you know this? The spare was only just killed. What has the Trelawney hag said now?"

Harry wore a wide-eyed expression of vagueness. "Goodness, the SollIsprites really _have_ eaten your toes. The professor of seeing wasn't the seer who Saw it at _all._ Personally, I suspect the Nargles, but the Moonfrogs have assured me-"

Voldemort grew even more angry and slipped into hisses. "Which ssseer wasss it?" Then he froze. He looked at Harry. And then at Harry. And then back to Harry. "What on-"

"Goodness, you _are_ going to die a grisly death." Harry's eyes were even wider and his skin pale, holding himself with a grace almost like floating. "Can I, just-?" He gestured towards Nagini. Harry didn't wait for an answer though, but lunged forward brandishing a large sword. The rubies glinted in the moonlight, almost exactly the same shade as the spray of red as the snake's head thudded on the ground. "Phew, that was going to cause me a few problems in the future."

"NO!" Voldemort yelled as he gazed at the remains of his Horcrux.

"I'm sorry, my love. Your attractiveness demands I, Harriet Potter, comfort you in your hour of need. Marvel at my femininity!"

"But I don't love-"

"Sorry, er, Voldy. About your pet, I mean. Can I still join the Dark side? I mean, James and Lily were dicks and all and I'm messed up so…"

"No you can't!"

"But I was abused!"

"I don't care-"

"Hey handsome," Harry tossed his scarf over his shoulder. "You are one gorgeous hunk. I've always gone for a bad boy."

"Why on earth would I date someone like you? You're so light, you even wear hair gel." Harry scoffed, flicking his 'emo-fringe' back.

"But you're me! Our complexions would completely match and, darling, I can see the outfits now. Twins are in at the moment, you know."

"I'm sorry, but I won't date anyone except for my beloved Severus/Draco. We're soul-mates, you know."

"You'd date our head of house? And admit it? You'd admit to illegal, under-aged doings? How… un-Slytherin of you." Harry said, sneering slightly.

"Whoops!" Harry tripped and only just missed the blast of light that exploded from Harry's wand as he ducked and rolled.

"How lucky!" Harry laughed.

"Damn it," Harry said, inspecting his wand angrily. "I thought I'd already cracked his head open…"

"Tell me about it. I thought I shot him- oh, there's my bloody helicopter."

"Sorry! That's mine; rich playboy, you know. HELLO GIRLS!" He yelled, waving enthusiastically.

"Hey, can I go with you? I need to get to Gringotts for a portkey and a property!"

"OMG, he's so f-ukign hot! I want 2 snog him!" Ebony yelled.

"In my day, people knew how to spell." Harry/Salazar shook his head disapprovingly. "Of course, in my day incest was fine, so we weren't perfect."

"Whot's rong with inset?"

"That's not how we spell incest, sweetie." Harry said patronizingly, with his hands on his knees, "Repeat after me; 'in-ce-st."

"Ini-cost."

"No, in-ce-st."

"In-oo-wah?"

A shuriken sailed past Teacher!Harry and impaled itself in Ebony's chest. Everyone turned to an 'inconspicuous' Harry shuffling away. "That wasn't me at all. I'm not a ninja, I mean- KAWAII! And all that. Oh, is that Sasuke? Bye!"

"Don't look at me. I wouldn't kill someone. Far too troublesome." Harry didn't bother to get up from his spot on the ground.

"The Ministry and my mother will hear about this. It's all just a conspiracy to bring down my unc- I mean, the Minister, I tell you!"

A second shuriken sailed past Harry, only missing by an inch.

"STILL NOT ME!" came the distant shout.

"You know, I've never had a threesome with myself," Harry mused, looking around himself with interest and a perverted gleam in his eyes.

"YOU CHAUVINISTIC PIG! IS SEX ALL YOU THINK ABOUT? MEN HAVE IT SO EASY, JUST GET A GIRL PREGNANT AND BOOSH! A BABY! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH WE SUFFER! BLOOD EVERY MONTH AND THEN FORCING A HUGE THING OUT THROUGH YOUR VAGINA!"

"I completely understand, sister. Life's all about finding your soulmate, even if he did kill your parents, and then staying gorgeous." Harry's perfect hair went soaring through the air yet again.

"NO! NO IT'S NOT! IT'S ABOUT CHOCOLATE AND YOUR FRIENDS AND-"

"Hey, does anyone know what's going on here? I'm blind and I just-"

"You're blind?" Harry asked interestedly, twirling a sudden moustache. "Would you care for a custard cream-"

_"Ha!"_

"Shut up Sirius!"

"Wouldn't mind if I d- squawk!

"I can deduce from your wingspan, pitch of squawk and bone structure that you are a canary." Harry informed him monotonously. "Do keep up Watson."

"Well done, genius. I'm sure if my meemaw were here she'd give you a gold star and a pat on the pack. Only she wouldn't, because I have a PhD and you don't. Ha!"

"I can deduce from your dress, speech and general air that you have a lower IQ than Anderson, which I will now demonstrate in a series of close up with white writing."

"Very good." Harry said patronisingly. "But I'm a Physicist, and I have string theory. What are you, a Biologist?" Harry snickered.

Harry regarded Harry with distaste "A consulting detective."

"I've never heard of it-"

"WILL YOU TWO BE QUIET? I'M TRYING TO FINISH THIS BOOK!"

"… Is it a physics book?"

"No."

"Then it's stupid."

"Dudes, relaaaaaaaaaax. Your bad energy is just generating bad karma. You need to reconnect with your core."

"I agree. Take off your clothes, run through the bracken and let the fern brush against your skin." Harry said, "Let the fresh air totally refresh you."

"I'd pay money to see that," Harry said lustfully.

Harry growled and slapped Harry.

"Er, can you do that again, please? I didn't catch that." Harry said, holding up his camera.

"What's that? We didn't have those in my day…"

_"I was just hanging out,_

_When this ghost came up,_

_He was a carbon copy_

_I spat out my cup,_

_Is this a vision, a premonition,_

_Of my future if I follow?_

_Down this twisted road_

_Will I end up hollow?"_

"That was very good dearie, but what do you mean 'twisted path'? Is it drugs? Because you're looking rather thin. I'll just fry up some bacon-" Harry flapped his hands concernedly.

"Bacon! My Lightning Owl form loves bacon!" Harry shouted enthusiastically, flickering between forms faster than the human eye could follow.

"That's nice, dear."

"Excuse me, ma'am. Have you seen this man?" Harry in dark sunglasses asked.

"Why yes, I have! That's you sweetheart. Right down to that bit of scruffy hair- can I just smooth that down-?"

"You are not permitted to touch!"

"Darn it. How can I bring myself in?" Harry frowned behind his shades.

"007, I'm not authorized to give out that kind of information."

"This is Harry Potter, reporting for the Daily Prophet. Mr Unspeakable, what can you say about the rumors that the Department of Mysteries is messing with time? Has one of your own gone missing? Are you controlling the Ministry from the inside? Has the office kneazle gone missing?"

"Pardon me sir, but have you filed the necessary forms to make public the events of this ritual? Have you filled out forms B66 or K3?"

"Just stop talking! God, all this mention of paperwork is just making me so God. Damn. Depressed!"

"You think you have it bad? Imagine having to wake up every morning to see this in the mirror! I'm hideous!" Harry took his hands away from his face and everyone screamed.

"Tis a horrific spectacle, and one I may not wish upon mine enemies. Was thou cursed as a babe?"

"Not that I know of-"

"Hermione! We're in the wrong place again! And it's the same wrong place!"

_Woosh! Woosh! Woosh!_

"I seen Jesus! He was blue and so beautiful and- you're my best mate, you know that? I love you, man." Harry staggered.

Harry looked disappointed. "This is all down to bad parenting. If you were just a little more authoritative… Use the bean bag method like I taught you."

"I know!" Harry sobbed, clutching a pan of bacon

"Hey it's not my fault he's my dad! It's hard to overcome blood, you know!"

"WHO SAID BLOOD?! I'LL KILL THEM!"

Finally, Voldemort had had enough. He stared straight at the readers and whispered unsteadily (and slightly deranged). "This is madness." And then he ran straight for them, faster and faster** and faster until**

"The fourth wall would never quite recover from the Many Harry Potter's of Little Hangleton. Although it would try, shivers still racked it as it cast its mind back to the 68th chapter."

"Do you think we should have told him we have MPD?" Harry asked uncertainly, observing the shattered remains of the fourth wall, which was already beginning to repair itself, ready for the next chapter- damn it! There it goes again.

"Nah," Harry dismissed. "We'll conquer our demons some other way."

"I heard Severus was free!"

"Shut up, Snarry. Everybody hates you!"


	69. Crazy Cat Lady Harry

**This chapter is dedicated to my beautiful kitty called Tigger, without whom these chapters might be written a whole lot quicker. I'll never forget the day you walked across my keyboard, deleting a whole word document. Three months work, wasted. This one's for you, Tiggs!**

* * *

**Harry is a crazy cat lady and Voldemort's more of a dog person.**

* * *

"Here, here, Pussums. Come to daddy!" Harry carefully placed Tibbles on the ground, enabling him to pat his thighs and call for his missing pet. "It's dinner time, come on puss!"

"Ah Potter! Your time has come- is that a kneazle on your head?"

"Crossbred with a Tabby." Harry confirmed, lifting Snookums down and stroking her head. The half-kneazle purred and nuzzled into his hand, but Harry planted a kiss on her forehead and let her join her brother, Tibbles, behind a gravestone.

"But why are they-" Voldemort kicked a black-haired cat away from the seam of his robes, "here with you?"

"I couldn't leave my babies alone! They love their daddy too much to ever be parted!" Harry said in a babyish voice, sending Voldemort a reproachful look as Jasper shook off the kick and scampered away.

"What? It was an annoying little fur ball. It deserved it," Voldemort looked defensively at the retreating animal.

"Animal abusers never prosper," Harry frowned, but the cat pawing at his leg and mewling caught his attention. Harry looked delighted and held Sooty close to his chest, burying his face in her fur as a tortoise-shell played with his sleeve.

"Dear God, you're a cat lady," Voldemort nearly cried at the realisation. "We had one down the road from the orphanage and she just constantly smelled of mould and it was just- urgh! I was her favourite too, you know. I used to live in constant terror that she would adopt me." Voldemort's eyes went out of focus for a second. He would never eat tuna again.

"Mrs Figg is a wonderful and kind-hearted woman who only wishes the best for everyone. She can't help her bathing habits and you shouldn't judge her!" Harry scolded, caressing Sooty's ear as he fed her cat treats.

Voldemort looked confused. "Who's Mrs Figg? My cat lady was called Imelda Hump."

"Oh, I thought…" Harry looked vaguely embarrassed. "Never mind," he squeezed Sooty to his chest and rocked her, "We all make mistakes, don't we, my precious?" He cooed, letting her spring away when she meowed. Tibbles immediately replaced her.

"I'm more of a dog person," Voldemort remarked darkly, visibly recoiling as he watching the scene of sickening sweetness.

"Oh, I can't stand them. Those Grims give me the heebie-jeebies. Hand me a Siamese and I'm happy any day," Harry shook his head and fed Tibbles a salmon-flavoured dry bit.

"They're wonderful companions, very loyal, almost like a Death-" Voldemort froze. "There's something on my back," he said slowly, trying not to move.

Harry cheered up as he caught sight of a ginger paw, hanging onto the Dark Lord's shoulder. "That'll be my Pussums. I was wondering where he'd gotten to."

"Get it off."

"What?!"

"Get it away from me!"

"I'm sorry dear, what was that?" Harry cupped a hand around his ear.

"Get this thing OFF my shoulder!"

"You'll have to speak up, I can't hear a word. I must be deaf from all the incessant barking the DOGS do."

"IT'S ON MY FA- MPH!"

Harry watched the Dark Lord panicking, a content cat latched happily onto his face (the lack of nose made it a rather wonderfully flat terrain.) Voldemort screeched, tripped over a stone and fell into a sea of cats, slowly disappearing under the mass of warm, furry bodies. They wiggled and squirmed, pawing at every available space, scratching at each patch of exposed skin, until even his muffled shouts were silenced. Finally, all that could be seen was a single clawed hand, reaching out, begging for help that would never come.

Harry shook his head mournfully and patted his purring kneazle with a strange smile. "Merlin, I hate people like that."

"Me too," Wormtail said, backing away slowly.


	70. Harmony Harry

**Voldemort's a Harmony shipper and Ginny's a bitch.**

* * *

"OMG, you guys are perfect together, I love you so much." Voldemort slapped a hand over his mouth and blushed slightly.

The happy couple might have acted taken aback if they were anyone else, but their aura of wonderfulness prevented them from being any less than accepting and kind.

"Thank you," Harry said graciously. "My wife and I weren't certain on whether to come or not-"

"-But we decided we had to," Hermione finished with a beautiful smile.

"Gosh, you're just so darn lovely," Voldemort exclaimed, "And you're married?"

"We have a soulbond. Automatically binds us as spouses. It's just more proof that we were made for each other." Harry sighed as he staring deep into Hermione's chocolate eyes.

"And how soon in your relationship did the bond establish itself?" The Dark lord asked interestedly, fighting down the urge to 'squee'.

"Oh, our first kiss," Harry nodded, giving Hermione a peck on the cheek.

"It was so romantic," she swooned. "It was at the Yule Ball and he took me to the fountain outside…"

"Really, 'cause I heard Potter was rubbish with girls!" Wormtail piped up, but was silenced with a glare from the other three. Wormtail cowered into a shadow, muttering, "Larry forever!"

"Oh no, he got me a diamond bracelet for Christmas with special symbolism," Hermione squealed, holding up her wrist.

"Merlin, he's like the perfect boyfriend," Voldemort wondered. "So, you've had no problems with being legally bound to a boy at fourteen?"

"There are no problems at all!" Harry assured him. "Being married means I get to be Lord Potter, making 'Mione Lady Potter-" she giggled and showed off her Potter jewels "-and I get properties and rights and everything. I have an island!"

"It's all working out for you guys, isn't it? I'm so happy, because I've been rooting for you for so long, and then that damn Weasley girl had to come along and-"

"Oh, Ginny's a jealous bitch," Hermione frowned. "She has a crush on Harry. It's ridiculous."

"She's a total slut," Harry leaned in conspiratorially, "She has a boyfriend-"

"_No_."

"_Yes_. And I've heard she _kisses_ him."

"Oh, the horror," Voldemort nearly fainted at the vulgarity of it.

"So clearly she's sleeping with every boy in the castle," Harry shook his head.

"Except for you, my precious poochykins," Hermione squidged his cheeks together.

"Of course, my darling-warling," Harry replied, equally as soppily. "Because my teenage boy hormones are off for every girl except my beloved wife."

Hermione sighed (again). "Isn't he perfect?"

"Completely," Voldemort clasped his hands. An owl winged through the sky and dropped a Howler into Harry's lap.

"POTTER YOU STOLE MY GIRLFRIEND! I'VE BEEN DOSING HER WITH LOVE POTIONS FOR MONTHS AND SUDDENLY YOU HAVE A LOVE BOND-"

The letter crumbled to ash.

"Love potion?" Voldemort questioned.

"Amortensia. All Dumbedore's doing. He's completely evil and wants Harry controlled by Ron and Ginny."

"Mrs Weasley's evil too. She wants the Potter money or something," Harry scratched the back of his neck. "So the obvious answer is to marry her daughter to me, instead of use the vault key I foolishly gave to her (or she already had, they kinda gloss over that one)."

"So many people are evil," Hermione pouted.

"Yeah." Harry pulled her into a comforting hug.

"You know what? I was going to try and kill you, but you guys don't need any rubbish like a Dark Lord to interrupt your epic love story. I'll just disappear entirely for the rest of the plot."

"Oh would you? That'd be wonderful, really." Hermione said honestly.

"We're still in our honeymoon stage, you see," Harry nudged his wife suggestively and they both giggled.

"Marriage and sex already," Voldemort mused, wiping a tear from his eye. "It's like you're not even fourteen."


	71. God Harry

**Harry is super and Wormtail's a better person.**

* * *

"Awesome powers of wandless magic which develop suddenly!" Harry said, snapping his fingers. Immediately Voldemort and all seven Horcruxes died, the Wizarding World was fixed and all was good.

"Well that was boring. No character development at all." Wormtail remarked, deflating.

"Yeah well, once you take the struggle out of something, it's all just sort of… easy. I mean, I have no weaknesses, so there's nothing for me to overcome." Harry shrugged. The two of them sighed.

A silence.

"Shouldn't you be killing me right now?" Wormtail asked mildly.

"Just being around my awesomeness makes you a better person," Harry wrapped an arm around the rat's shoulders. "And I need a new right-hand man, since Ron and Hermione are both evil traitors."

"I thought you were 'BFFs forever'? The Weasley I can understand, but the Hermione girl always seemed so l_oyal._"

"It just goes to show that all females are manipulative and flaky." Harry shrugged helplessly. "Or obsessed and perfectly willing to be in a harem just to get with a nice guy."

"So, if you're all powerful, could you create a rock that even _you_ couldn't lift?"

"Ah, now _that_ is an age old paradox,"...


	72. Azkaban Harry

**Harry's just back from Azkaban and Wormtail's not sure he's entirely sane.**

* * *

"Y-you look- you look… awful, actually." Wormtail hobbled anxiously towards Harry Potter. The aforementioned boy did, indeed, look terrible. His hair was long and knotted, slick with grease. His robe was tattered and hung on his bony limbs awkwardly, allowing glimpses of protruding ribs. His green eyes were shadowed and haunted. He looked like a madman.

"Well I've been in Azkaban." He said in a voice hoarse from disuse. "Bella says hi."

"Bella? B-Bellatrix Lestrange? But she's a Death Eater, w-why would she s-send the Boy Who Lived with a f-friendly message?"

"We became good friends. _More_ than good friends," Harry wiggled his patchy eyebrows with a lecherous grin. "Insane psychopaths are pretty good company once you get to know them. And she felt sorry for a poor, innocent boy locked up for a crime he didn't commit." Harry pouted playfully.

"Mrs Lestrange is an insane m-murderer. I d-don't think she feels s-sorry for anyone, especially not the enemy of her master…"

"She does for me!" Harry screamed crazily, causing Wormtail to shriek and stumble back.

Harry caught his reflection in a polished marble gravestone. "Goodness, I look like death warmed up! I'd better change." He clicked his fingers and immediately he was clean-shaven and handsome, dressed in fancy robes with the crest of Azkaban emblazoned on the breast.

Wormtail jumped again. "H-how did you do that?"

"Wandless magic." Harry shrugged carelessly.

"B-but how did you learn-?"  
"I was in _Azkaban_."

"W-why does being in A-Azkaban allow you t-to learn wandless magic? Surely there are some s-sort of magic blockers otherwise inmates c-could just apparate out."

"You need a wand to apparate," Harry rolled his eyes patronisingly.

"Y-_you_ don't have a wand, and you apparated here," Wormtail pointed out hesitantly.

"Well I'm special!" Harry growled, the madness in his eyes more apparent.

"I believe you!" Wormtail squeaked, flinching.

"Perfect. I wouldn't want to have to kill you," Harry said carelessly.

"K-kill me?" Wormtail asked, panicked.

"I'm Dark now. Didn't you hear? All my friends uncharacteristically turned on me, and I grew to understandably hate them. Only the Weasley twins stood by me, despite having almost no previous interaction with me, except to give me a map (which was rather random, I must say). Anyway, so now I hate Ron, Hermione, Dumbldore, etc, as they were the cause of endless hours of rape and torture for me."

"Woah… h-how long were you in there?" Wormtail asked uncertainly.

"A few months," Harry shrugged.

"That's... a lot to happen in a few weeks."

"All the guards hated me." Harry snapped irritably, the air around him crackling.

"F-fine!" Wormtail backed away slowly, his hands raised.

"Good."

A pause.

"You know, now I think about it, maybe I'll forgive them. I mean, they _did_ seem sorry…"

"No. _No!" _Wormtail shouted in an out-of-character burst of courage. "They completely betrayed your trust, why would you forgive them?"

"They _have_ apologized a lot. And I've proved time and time again that I'm a carpet. Remember that time with the dragon thing, and Ron not warning me about a fiery demon from hell that wanted to eat off my face and I completely forgave him and forgot all about it-"

"That's it, I'm not reading any more of this... this... RUBBISH!"

Harry shrugged. He was sure that Mrs Weasley probably still had his key and if they hadn't spent all his money, then maybe he could return to Hogwarts, and everything would be as it was before. All forgiven and all forgotten. Perfect. After all, who gets angry over a silly thing like imprisonment?


	73. Master of Death Harry

Harry is the Master of Death and, well, he's _alive_.

* * *

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

Cedric stood up with a wide smile. "I _find_ I'm alive. Thanks Harry!"

"… What?" Wormtail looked confused.

"Hasn't anyone told you?" Harry smirked and held up his amulet. It depicted a triangle, a circle and a line through them both. "I'm the Master of Death. Bringing people back to life is my game!"

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

"I _find_ I'm alive! Thanks Harry!"

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

"I _find_ I'm alive! Thanks Harry!"

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

"I _find _I'm alive! Thanks Harry!"

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

"I _find_ I'm alive! Thanks Harry!"

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

"HE'S ALIVE! MUWHAAAA!"

There was a silence.

Cedric and Wormtail looked at Harry.

Harry coughed awkwardly. "Um, yeah, sorry about that. I had a bit of a Frankenstein moment."

Wormtail growled. The events seemed to have driven him slightly potty. "If _you're_ dead, Potter, then you can't bring _him_ back to life. Ha!"

Cedric and Harry looked slightly alarmed.

"He's insane," Cedric muttered.

"I know," Harry nodded sadly.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" An explosion of green light hit the Boy Who Lived and sent him crumpling to the ground.

"Good work, Wormtail. Now the spare," A hiss, echoing through the fog and sending shivers down the Hufflepuff champion's spine.

It seemed all hope was lost. Until Harry stood up.

"Er sorry- didn't I mention? I'm immortal. I won't grow old, I'll see my family die, be a silent guardian, a watchful protector, a dark knight. Angst, angst, and all that."

"That's impossible! Only _I_ can be immortal! Wormtail, hand me my wand."

"My lord-"

"Now!"

Wormtail hung his head. "...Yes, my Lord."

_"Avada Kedavra!" _The Dark Lord sent the Unforgivable hurtling towards his enemy.

"I'm alive! 'Cause, you know, immortal."

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

"I'm alive! 'Cause, you know, immortal."

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

"I'm alive! 'Cause, you know, immortal."

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

"This could go on forever," Cedric said, watching the exchange with wide eyes.

And it did.

Well, until the 58th attempt on Harry's life, at which point Cedric got bored, and took the portkey back to Hogwarts, along with Wormtail. Fudge fudged himself when he heard Voldemort was back and when Aurors swarmed the cemetery (to prove he _hadn't_ returned, damn it Dumbledore!) they found him still 'killing' Harry, over and over again. Harry destroyed Voldemort's soul with a Master of Death power spell thing (which proved he really shouldn't have had any trouble at all).

Harry contemplating running and hiding, because he was immortal and would therefore be dissected by the Department of Mysteries, but instead was immediately arrested, because: '_Fudge'_. He was sentenced to death, because: '_Fudge'_, and pushed through the veil.

Only Harry walked out again.

Finally, after the 47th attempted execution of Harry (and numerous "I'm alive!"s) Fudge just decided to banish him. And the people accepted this because they were mindless sheep.

And then Harry went to America and ran into a certain band of superheroes, but that's another fanfiction entirely.


	74. Hufflepuff Harry

**For all yo Hufflepuff's out there- I love you guys! Remember, keep your chins up and don't punch anyone. Try joining Hufflepuff Pride, or hugging a badger. It's very therapeutic.**

* * *

**Harry's in Hufflepuff- Hufflepuff? Poor thing.**

* * *

"Harry, I think we're in a graveyard."

"Don't worry Cedric. As a fellow champion and Hufflepuff-"

Wormtail shook off his hood. _"Hufflepuff?"_

"Um yeah, I'm in Hufflepuff. Is that a problem?" Harry looked uncertainly at Cedric, who shrugged helplessly.

"Yeah- I mean _Hufflepuff?_" Wormtail shook his head in dismay. "Bad luck dude."

"Wormtail, kill the spare!"

"My lord- they're Hufflepuff."

"Bloody hell."

"What's the big fuss about?" Harry furrowed his brow. "There's nothing wrong with being in Hufflepuff."

"There's nothing_ right_ about being in Hufflepuff!" Wormtail complained.

"We're loyal and hard-working! We're unique and accepting!" Cedric declared proudly, lifting his chin.

Harry elbowed him, "Except for that time in my second year when you all abandoned me."

Cedric looked sheepish. "That was different."

"You're loyal and persevering! There were so many other values you could have had! Creativity, artistic- even just charming!"

"Yeah, well we've got those too!" Harry said defensively.

"Face it, you're the leftovers. It even says it in the sorting speech, every single year."

"Not true," Harry denied stubbornly.

"Your ghost is the most pathetic excuse for a phantom I have ever seen!"

"He's a lovely fellow with an amazing joke about a House Elf and a Christmas tree," Cedric objected, smiling slightly at the memory.

"Okay, give me an example of one Hufflepuff who did something outstanding or worthwhile." Wormtail challenged smugly.

"Nymphadora Tonks." Harry crossed his arms. Cedric looked confused, "Er Harry, who's she?" he murmured.

"The most badass motherfucker you will ever meet."

"So that's one…" Wormtail trailed off suggestively.

"Hey! You said only _one!_" Harry objected.

"Don't correct me, I'm a Gryffindor!" the rat animagus snapped angrily.

"You're a traitor!" Harry accused.

"At least _I'm_ not a duffer."

"We're nice people!" Cedric yelled.

Everyone shifted awkwardly.

"So, just to get this clear: you're _not_ going to kill me?" Harry asked.

"Honestly?" Wormtail clapped a hand onto his shoulder and gave him a pitying look, "It would be like kicking a puppy. A defenceless one."

"Hey! Our common rooms are right by the kitchens! We're a few _steps_ away from food!"

"They probably didn't think you could handle the stairs. You might trip."

"We throw the _best_ parties. We have candy apples and f_oot warmers._"

"But bed by nine," Wormtail said patronisingly.

"Ten on a weekend!" Cedric protested.

"Oh my Merlin, you're adorable. Get out of here before I smother you out of mercy." Voldemort sighed and buried his head into Wormtail's robes. "Honestly, _Hufflepuff._"

Harry and Cedric exchanged looks, shrugged and then did as he ordered.

"AND THE HUFFLEPUFFS WIN THE TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT!" Fudge shouted. "Hang on- the _Hufflepuffs_ won the tournament? What the _hell_ is a Hufflepuff?"

It would be a defining moment for the Hufflepuff Pride foundation (dedicated to boosting the esteem and lowering the suicide rate of Hufflepuffs and badgers). It would put their list of monumental events and discoveries up to four. They even got Ministry funding.


	75. Elemental Harry

**Harry is the avat- I mean, ****_elementalist,_**** in a war agaisnt the Fire Nation- I mean, ****_Voldemort!_**

* * *

"You see Voldemort, you don't stand a chance, because I have discovered some ancient books containing ancient long-forgotten knowledge on mastering the elements! I performed a complex(ish) test to see if I was compatible with one of them, and guess what-?"

"You're the first wizard since Merlin to have the ability to use all four elements because you're oh-so-special?" Voldemort rolled his eyes as he spoke flatly, "We've all heard it before: our likeable but beaten down protagonist discovers he's got some unique long-lost power. Or maybe you're just one of the elements in a group of people each with one element, but come together and you're the most powerful things on earth. But you're the leader of course."

Harry blinked, "Both, actually."

"Really?" Voldemort asked incredulously.

"Yeah, I'm the master of all elements, _and_ the leader of a group of five. Hermione's water; Ron's fire; Neville's earth and Draco's air."

"Huh. There's an ancient prophecy too, isn't there? Fire, water and all that stuff must unite to defeat evil?"

"Why yes, there is!"

"How _do_ I do it? Okay, let's get this whole thing over with."

"What 'thing'?"

"Your group/team is going to steal all of Dumbledore's followers/gain his support with a rousing speech, create an army and wage a war against my Dark creatures and Death Eaters. Or you'll create a secret vigilante group; a 'third side' if you will. I don't know, it could go either way. We'll have an epic battle, I'll look like I'm winning until the very end where you either summon the last of your strength or your team unites against me in a beautiful show of 'teamwork', which may or may not be the ultimate sacrifice of your's or their lives."

Harry shrugged, "That sounds fun."

Voldemort pouted, "For you, maybe. I just _know_ I'm going to get charred."

"Charred?" Harry looked confused as he conjured a ball of flames which hovered in his palm.

"For some reason, apparently fire is the only element you're willing to use. A tsunami or a hurricane or the earth swallowing me up would do the same thing… but, you know; your loss. If you got it, you obviously ain't gonna flaunt it. Let's just get this over with."

"... Okay? Team assemble!"

Voldemort sighed. "It's just so _predictable._"


	76. Metamorphmagus Harry

**Harry's a metamorphagus and a teenage boy. What do you think he did?**

* * *

"Hey Voldy! I'm a metamorphmagus! Wanna see what I can do? Well, do ya, _do ya?_!"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake… I _just_ want to gloat, maybe duel a bit, and then watch the light fade from your eyes. Can we _not_ do this?"

"But-"

"No."

"But-"

_"Don't."_

"It'll take two seconds!"

"_Fine._"

There was a pause, before Voldemort rolled his eyes and broke it, "I must admit this is a surprise. I've never seen any signs of you being a metamorphmagus."

Harry shrugged, "Neither did I, but fans took a throwaway sentence about me growing my hair back and turned it from a bit of common accidental magic into a rare Black family birth right."

"And what can you do with these 'amazing metamorphmagus powers'?"

"My hair changes colour! Ha! Look! Yellow, red, green, blue, orange, purple…"

"And what's the use of that?" Voldemort asked doubtfully.

"Well... it looks cool? And they change with my emotions!"

"So basically you're like one of those muggle mood rings."

"Yep!"

"Have you ever considered using it as a disguise? Pretending to be one of my most trusted Death Eaters and infiltrating my inner circle, passing information back to the Light? Or even impersonating me? After all, metamorphmagi are possibly the only people who can change their appearance without risk of magical detection. It would be an invaluable skill in wartime."

"Er… no? But I did manage to use it to sneak into the girls' changing rooms before the third task. We haven't played any this year, but we did keep _practising,"_ said Harry with a dreamy smile. "Those girls are _dedicated._"

"Pervert." Voldemort accused.

Harry shrugged shamelessly, "Just don't tell McGonagall. She told me if I ever did it again, I'd never have children."

Harry and Voldemort shuddered.

Wormtail whimpered, "She not joking, she's really not."

"What did you do?" Voldemort asked, remembering the stern Gryffindor prefect.

"Girl's don't tend to notice rats in the bathroom ventilation shafts." His eyes went glassy. "But sometimes they _do._"

Harry gave the rat animagus a pitying look, "That explains a lot."


	77. Werewolf Harry

**Sorry I haven't updated for a bit, I was away.**

* * *

**Harry is a poor, depressed werewolf and Voldemort is paranoid.**

* * *

"Ah Harry, so nice of you to join us- oh. You look awful."

And Harry did. Covered in scratches and scars, with worn and patch-cover robes, he was sight to be seen. "Well I'm an under-aged werewolf who only has access to his trust fund."

"I was talking about your… you know," Voldemort gestured towards his face.

"Werewolves are notorious self-harmers," Harry smiled sardonically.

"Couldn't you get some kind of glove… thing?"

"Yes, but that would require logic, and wizards are severely lacking in that department. Plus no one's really looking to make things easier for werewolves."

"But aren't you the Golden Boy? The Saviour? The One True Hero of Light?"

"It all seems to disappear once you get bitten. Plus that bitch Delores Umbridge is getting a legislation passed. Soon I won't be able to get a job that requires me to be within three feet of people on a regular basis."

"Merlin, she's a bitch. She wanted to join the Death Eaters you know, came to me when she was just a 6th year, begging to join. 'I completely agree with your cause, half-breeds and muggles should all die!' Even _I_ couldn't deal with her prejudice. Er, so since when have you been a werewolf?"

"When I was five, I was ravaged by a savage beast, almost losing my life in the process. I still have the scars, and a disease to remind me of the traumatic event."

"Didn't they give you therapy or something?" Voldemort asked, horrified, "Some kind of mind healing, surely?"

Harry snorted, "The Wizarding World doesn't seem to have therapists, or psychologists. They just lock all the crazy people up in a ward and keep them alive. There isn't a psychology course at Hogwarts… So now I'm traumatised, depressed _and_ poor."

"Don't you have a sizable inheritance?"

"All of that goes into paying for monthly doses of the Wolfsbane Potion. With that bought, there isn't much left for anything else."

"It's ridiculous that werewolves aren't able to hold jobs and yet they have to pay for an expensive potion. Doesn't the Wizarding World have unemployment or disability benefits? Or even a Health Care plan? Now I think about it; that's probably why all these werewolves are joining me. Huh, I thought it was for my natural charisma and charm," Voldemort mock-pouted.

"You _are_ offering equal rights. For a species that has been discriminated against for their entire lives, that would seem like the ultimate reward. People have killed for less."

"You're right. Anyone under those circumstances who _didn't_ join would be crazy!"

"I completely agree. So.. can I join?"

"What the heck! Come on in! You _are_ a Dark Creature after all."

"The Ministry definitions of Dark are really broad. I'm only dangerous for one day of the month," Harry kicked the floor.

"This _is_ the Wizarding World; home of spitting on people because of an inherited ability to speak to snakes that two out of countless Dark wizards have been able to speak."

"I was started to think I should have just stayed in the muggle world. At least they're started to eliminate prejudice."

"Yeah. But we have _magic_."

"Fat lot of good _that_ is when I can't pay the mortgage."

"Couldn't you just use your magic to start up a repair shop in the muggle world or something?"

"Yeah, but then the Ministry would arrest me for practising magic around muggles."

"Merlin, it's like they're trying to sabotage you. Shoving you into a completely foreign environment at 11, giving you skills you can't use in 90% of the world and not teaching you any of the basics of Maths, Science or English."

"Maybe it _is_ a conspiracy." Harry gazed thoughtfully into the distance. "The Rotfang conspiracy…"


	78. Joker Harry

**This chapter is quite a bit darker than the others, you guys. Because it's the Joker. He is one terrifying bastard. It's also not that funny, but I had just as much fun writing it ;)**

* * *

**Harry is the Joker and do you wanna know how he got that scar?**

* * *

"Do you wanna know how I got this scar?" Harry asked softly, holding Cedric in a cruel mockery of an embrace.

"Potter, what are you doing? We have to get out of here-"

"Sh, sh, sh," Harry hushed soothingly, stroking the back of the Hufflepuff's neck. Suddenly his grip tightened and Cedric's head was forced back, causing the other champion to wince.

"When I was just little, my parents' had a car. A lovely thing, painted all nice and red. It was my father's pride and joy. He loved it more than my mother; imagine that," Harry forced out the words from behind gritted teeth. He drew out a knife, and that was when Cedric started to truly struggle. "A man who cares that much about a car can't be a nice person, and he… wasn't. One day, I scratched it. Just a little lightning bolt mark. I didn't even notice I'd _done_ it."

Hopeless tears welled in Cedric's eyes.

"But Daddy did. He noticed all right. And that night he snuck into my room, quiet as a mouse," Harry muffled Cedric screams with a hand over his mouth, "He woke me up… gently, shaking my shoulder. He gave me a hug. And then he took his pocket knife, and he… _carved_… the shape into my little forehead, right on that bed.

Suddenly Harry smiled. "Funny how they died in a car crash, two days later. Life is full of… coincidences."

Cedric's lifeless body thudded to the ground.

* * *

Voldemort remained emotionless as he rose from the smoking cauldron, taking in the sight of his enemy. Harry Potter was not what he'd expected, not at all. He was dressed in a deep blue shirt, green waistcoat and trousers, made even stranger by the white gloves he was wearing. His long hair didn't look like it had been washed in weeks, and was tinted a yellowy-green. Even though his appearance was ridiculous, there was something about the way that his enemy stood, casually letting the blood drip from the wound in his arm, that set Voldemort on edge.

"Why so serious?" Harry asked, pouting falsely and tilting his head to one side.

"What are you talking about, Potter- is that makeup?"

Harry ignored him, taking a predatory step towards the Dark Lord. "I just... wanted to know; why so _serious_?"

"I don't know anything about your godfather. Wormtail! Why is he asking about Sirius Black?" Voldemort shouted.

"I d-don't know, my L-Lord."

"I'll ask you. _One. Last. Time._ Why so serious!?" Harry asked louder this time, his eyes darkening.

Voldemort looked confused and more than a little angry. "Because I'm going to kill you!"

Harry threw back his head and breathed deep, "_Now_ we're talking." Harry sighed, the madness in his eyes becoming warmer. "Do you wanna know how I got this scar?" Harry said slowly, tracing the lightening-shaped symbol with a silver knife.

"After I killed your parents I attempted to kill you. It failed and rebounded and you were left with that scar as evidence of our confrontation," Voldemort growled, miscomprehension apparent in every word.

Harry strolled towards a gravestone, casually leaning against it and running a glove over the name. "It wasn't much of a confrontation." He pronounced every syllable clearly, "I was just a little baby. A tiny little baby. I couldn't really FIGHT BACK!" Harry bellowed, slapping a hand against the stone. Then he began to laugh. And laugh and laugh, sending icy shivers down Wormtail's spine.

"He's w-worse than B-Bellatrix," the rat animagus muttered, fighting the instinct to flee. The Dark Lord nodded silently.

"You know, you remind me of my uncle," Harry focused his attention on Wormtail, his demeanour once again changing to that of amicable cheer.

"T-thank you?"

Harry smile grew cold, but his eyes lit up. It was a terrible, beautiful contrast. "I killed my uncle."

Wormtail gulped.

"Wanna know how I _really_ got this scar? My uncle was… a drinker. And a fiend. And one night he goes off crazier than usual. My auntie, no she doesn't like this at all. She's screaming and she's crying and she's begging, "Not Dudders! Hurt the boy, not my precious son!" But dear old Uncle doesn't like being told what to do. So he puts the knife to her throat and just-" Harry demonstrated with a swift cutting motion. "And then he comes to me, asking "why so serious, boy?" And he's lumbering towards me, 'cause my uncle was a large man, you see… "Why so serious?" He sticks the blade to my forehead… "Let's fix those insolent frown lines!" And he carves slowly, all the while laughing and laughing… And now when I think of it; I laugh too!" And he did.

Both Wormtail and Voldemort were backing away now, trying not to make any sudden movements. The Dark Lord had decided firmly that he was _not_ the craziest person in the area, and so it was wise for him to make a calculated retreat.

"Oh no you don't!" Harry chuckled grimly, jumping and throwing the knife. It sailed through the air, straight and true… straight into Wormtail's forehead. The rat let out a horrific scream and crumpled to the floor, twitching for only a second before he stilled.

"That was my servant!" Voldemort yelled, forgetting his fear for a few moments. "My last loyal slave!"

"I think my problems are a little worse than yours… Tommy boy." Harry let out a dramatic, exasperated heave, "You see, now I've lost my knife. I suppose I'll have to use this old… thing," he brought out his wand, a twisted thing with a dark aura. "It lacks the personal _touch_ of a knife, but I can always… draw things out. _Savour_ the little emotions."

Harry stepped over Wormtail's corpse carelessly, kicking his arm and causing it to crack. He slowly meandered towards Voldemort, the journey taking far longer than it should have. Finally he arrived, standing face to face with the Dark Lord. Even though he was a good few inches shorter, Harry still managed to tower over the Dark Wizard, his suffocating air of insanity making up for the lost height.

"You can't kill me, Potter," Voldemort spat. "I have achieved immortality."

"Oh I don't want to _kill_ you. I'm even glad!" Harry grinned maniacally. "After all; what good is chaos without a little opposition? You can't start a fire without a match," Harry paused, his eyes glazing over in a vision of mad glory, "And I want to _burn_."


	79. Kitten Harry

**Harry's a kitten and Voldemort just wuves him soooooooooo much.**

* * *

"Oh my gosh! Look Wormtail- a cat! I'm just a big, cat-loving softie deep down. I'm going to keep it!"

"Are you s-sure my Lord? It could be a spy, after all, this is the Wizarding World…"

"Nonsense Wormtail. I can tell this isn't an animagus. I mean, he holds no resemblance to any wizard I know! Look at his black fur, bright green eyes, lightning bolt mark on his forehead…"

"M-my Lord, that sounds an awful lot like H-Harry Potter, and he d-disappeared around the time that you f-found that cat…"

"Blasphemy! _Crucio!_ Aw look, the cat's nuzzling me. The cute… sexy cat likes me torturing my Death Eaters. You see; Harry Potter would never do that! Come on Bolt, I'm going to get you a luxury penthouse and let you play with all my servants and entrust all of my secret plans to you-"

_POP!_

"Yeah, I'm Harry Potter, sorry about that. I was forced into cat form and so decided to stick around the most evil person in the world instead of running away. But I've seen you're not a bad guy, you know, I mean- you like cats."

"Normally I'd be furious at someone for deceiving me and kill them, especially my enemy, but I… I think I love you. Obviously you were a cat before so I was a little worried about the moral implications of bestiality but this is perfect!" said Voldemort joyfully.

"Wonderful! Let's go on a date!"

"Of course!"

"Wait a minute...didn't you say that you were a dog person?" asked Harry.

"Um...when?" said Voldemort, hoping desperately that Harry wasn't thinking about Chapter 69.

"Uh...never mind, must've been my imagination..." said Harry.

And the 4th wall breathed a sigh of relief.


	80. Zombie Harry

**I have not been able to find anything substantial on Zombie Biology. :( ****However, this Harry!zombie is controlled by magic, and therefore blood flow would not be needed for animation. That's means that any fresh zombies wouldn't have blood pumped by the circulatory system, and on older corpses the blood would have dried up? I don't know, I'm making this up as I go along. Let's just go with this, my new breed of zombies. I'll call them Vombies. We'll take over the world. Muhwa ha ha haaa!**

* * *

**Harry wants braaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiins and Wormtail hasn't a thought in his head. But actually, strangely enough, he ****_has._**

* * *

_"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son. Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master. Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe."_

Contrary to what Wormtail expected, the wound did _not_ begin dripping blood. In fact, nothing came out. Not a single drop of the red liquid spilled from the cut, and the rat animagus was left rather befuddled. He scratched his head and rubbed his eyes, he even made a second incision. That was when he decided to take a closer look at the Boy Who Lived. And, _boy,_ did he regret it.

Harry's skin was loose, blackened and peeling, revealing white fat underneath. His teeth were yellowed and slightly sharpened, explained the chunk missing from his swollen tongue. His green eyes were blank and unseeing, one of them bulging outwards and if pushed by an inside force. It was utterly disgusting, but Wormtail _couldn't stop looking._

Until the undead Boy Saviour took a swing at his face.

"Brains?" Harry moaned.

Wormtail screeched and scampered back, falling against a bench. He clutched his heart as it hammered out of his chest, breathing heavily.

"Brains?"

Wormtail screamed again. "I don't have any!"

"Brains!" Harry demanded, waving his arms so violently that one of his fingers fell off.

Wormtail whimpered.

He got down on his knees and crawled forwards, grabbing at the fallen body part. His flesh crawled as he regarded the rotten flesh, but he felt at least a little relieved when he spotted the flakes of brown blood clinging to it. Wormtail swiftly scurried to the smoking cauldron, completing the ritual hurriedly as he ever-so-often glanced back at Harry. He quickly looked away when he saw the bones cracking and the meat squelching as Potter strained against the ropes.

_Disgusting._

When Voldemort rose, it wasn't to the awed gaze of his servant as he had expected. Instead, he was greeted by a rather disappointing sight; the pathetic rat quivering, and Potter surrounded by a halo of sticky red on the floor and- was his nose hanging off?

"What's going on, Wormtail?" he snapped, drawing himself up to his full height.

"The Potter boy appears to be a-a-"

"Yes?"

"Well, a _zombie_, my Lord."

"A zombie?"

"A bit like a muggle Inferius, my Lord. They're corpses, brought back to, er, 'life' by magical means."

"And what's the difference?" Voldemort asked impatiently, eyeing his undead enemy.

"Well, um, Inferi and zombies are raised by different types of magic. Inferi are reanimated with necromancy by Dark Wizards. They tend to be bound to the wills of their masters, whereas zombies are reasonably independent. Zombies have higher brain functions, though even that is… limited."

"Brains! Eat! Brains!" Harry moaned.

"Zombies are raised by bokor sorcerers, so it's still necromancy, but the _muggle_ type. Bokor sorcerers come from this religion, Haitian Vodoo… actually there are quite a few more scientific theories for zombies, to do with the electrical current in their brains and"

_"Wormtail."_

"Anyway, there's one main difference. Inferi are generally more… well, _durable._"

Voldemort and Wormtail glanced in synchronisation at Harry, whose ear promptly dropped to the ground with a thud. Harry stared down at it dazedly, his hand coming up to poke at empty hole, only for his second finger to drop as well.

"I can believe that," Voldemort decided. "Get him in a coffin and we'll bury him. No one will ever know."

"Right away my Lord."

"By the way, how did you know about zombies and all that stuff?"

"Oh, I'm a huge fan of Darren Shan." Wormtail answered enthusiastically.

"Really? _I_ like Darren Criss."

"Oh my Merlin, I loved him in Glee."

"Me too- that episode where Quinn has Beth-?"

"Loved it!"


	81. Twilight Harry

**Voldemort's Bella and Cedric's Edward. Creeped out yet?**

* * *

"I'm sorry Voldemort, I can't be with you anymore," Cedric pouted darkly but still sexily, his amber eyes flashing with pain and danger.

"…We're not even together!" Lord Voldemort complained. Cedric looked outraged, "But you're my mate! You're mine!"

Voldemort eyed him suspiciously, "That's possessive and creepy. Not sweet. And what in Merlin's name is a mate?"

"My one true love! The light of my life! The only thing that drags me through my dark life of angst and sorrow," Cedric declared, hiding his face in shame.

"Well at least you're pretty," Voldemort muttered. He cleared his throat and spoke louder, "Look, I think there's been some mistake. I'm not your mate. I'm a fifty year old man, that would be pretty paedophilic. Unless- oh god, how old are you again?"

"17," Cedric said, staring deep into Voldemort's eyes.

"Oh thank Merlin," Voldemort laughed. "For a moment there I thought you'd say you were 100 or something. Hell, even though I'm 50, dating someone twice my age would still be pretty disturbing. Imagine if I was 17! That'd be the stuff of nightmares!"

Cedric gave a twitch of his jaw, which seemed to be the best attempt he could give at a smile. Merlin, I even feel sorry for him. All that 'sexy' pouting can't be good for your jaw muscles, and I imagine it would hurt after a while. Maybe that's why Edward's so grumpy all the time. I can almost forgive him-

Oh, right, sorry. Carrying on:

"But your blood calls to me! I just want to sink my teeth into your neck and tear it out, draining you of every last drop." Cedric said, staring at Voldemort's jugular lustfully.

"Look, wanting to kill someone is not love, I should know. I _really_ want to kill Harry Potter, like, seriously. It is a deep desire. I would like nothing better than to wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze until the light leaves his eyes. But that doesn't mean I want to snog the boy!"

"But I need to be near you. Watch you sleep, hear your every breath- except I can't," Cedric flinched and turned away, shoulders heaving as he steeled himself. "I won't turn you into a demon like me. Voldemort, you're pure. And you could never be something as soulless and disgusting as a vampire-"

And then the sun came out.

Voldemort chuckled, and he then giggled, and then he snorted, and then he guffawed, until finally he shook with silent laughter, tears running down his face. "You SPARKLE!" he shrieked joyfully, leaning on his thighs for support. "Like a FAIRY! A VAMPIRE FAIRY!"

Cedric was beginning to become rather panicked. "I'm not a fairy, my love. I'm a vampire- a vicious killing machine. I lust for your blood! Don't try to make me out to be a hero-"

"I'm not pretending you're a _hero!_ You're ridiculous!" Voldemort hooted.

Now you may be wondering where Harry has been throughout all this. After all, he is our protagonist in this thrilling tale of vampire love. The chapter's even named after him!

Well, after Cedric's little declaration of love, Harry had decided not to reveal himself. Honestly, the whole 'the cup's a portkey' had come as rather a large surprise to the poor fellow, and he was in no fit state to be confronting his mortal enemy. So he had stuck around, hovering behind a gravestone. With each soppy line that sounded like it came right out a teenage girl's diary he dissolved into deeper and deeper hysterics. With one final try from Cedric ("I could rip you apart if I lost control- stop _laughing!"_), Harry's lungs burned for air that never came.

Voldemort and Cedric froze, both turning in sync to stare at the still body of one Harry Potter, the ghost of a smile still on his face. The Dark Lord turned back to Cedric, who was once again sporting a brooding expression, and clapped a hand to his shoulder.

"You know what, kid? You're alright. You can stick around."

"I knew you'd come around, my love. But we cannot be together, it's too dangerous-"

"Just don't _touch_ me. And stop trying to hold my hand!"

Wormtail sighed. If only Cedric would look at _him_ like that."Y-you can h-hold my hand if you w-want," said Wormtail.

"No thanks. You smell like vermin."

Wormtail sighed. He would wait.


	82. Granger Harry

**Harry is raised by the Grangers and it's funny how awesome being raised by dentists makes you, isn't it?**

* * *

"Hey Voldemort!"

"Hello Potter. Come to finally meet your doom-?"

"It's, uh, _Granger_ now."

"Huh? What?"

"Harry Granger. I was adopted after my relatives were abusive arseholes."

"Wow. Weird, my sources have never picked up on that all these years, otherwise we would've taken advantage of the lack of blood wards and murdered you. I've never heard the surname Granger."

"You wouldn't have. They're muggles."

"Oh. For some reason, I can't see the Ministry of Magic allowing an unrelated muggle family to raise the Boy Who Lived. They tend to be rather prejudiced. I blame myself because, well, I _should_ really, shouldn't I?"

"Well, never mind politics, paperwork or legal guardianship! Meet my sister and girlfriend Hermione!"

Voldemort's face immediately fell into an expression of despair. He shook his head and hid his face in his hands. "Is this another one of those creepy Snarry things? I hated that chapter!"

"No Voldy, relax! It's totally different with Hermione!"

"Phew! I was worried there... wait a minute- _how?"_

"She's my age!"

"For Merlin's sake-"

"No, no! There's _more!_ Her parents already think of me like a son! We were raised together!"

"This is _not_ right."

"No, no! After a few magical years of friendship and then sibling-ship, we decided a romantic relationship was the next logical step!"

"But it's _not_ though-"

"And now we're going to conquer the Wizarding World using logic and physics!"

"He's _very_ smart," Hermione added.

"After all, I was adopted into a family of clever people!" Harry grinned.

"You don't understand genes, do you?"

"Of course I do; I own a pair myself! They're salmon."

Voldemort sighed. He had a lot of explaining to do. Then Voldemort noticed Harry's long- _metallic?-_ wand, with a glowing green gem on the end. Harry waved the 'wand' and it made a noise.

Then Voldemort felt a sudden unimaginable pain wrack him.

"What...what did you do?!"

"Well, I discovered that there's better magic in other countries, which just highlights how _stupid_ Magical British is- ha ha them! So instead I got a magical focus from Germany after I went through this complicated wand material sensing ceremony thing. Magic focuses work on willpower- like the Green Lantern!- and the gem magnifies it and it's just so _shiny!_"

"What did you _do!_?"

"Just programmed your magic to seek out your Horcruxes and then destroy them, slowly and painfully killing you."

"But aren't you a Horcrux?" asked Voldemort shakily, crying out in agony

"I was, but I went to Egypt and found a Horcrux removal ritual," said Harry. "I _love_ family holidays."

And with that, Voldemort died.

And Magical Britain sent all their children to live with dentists. Because... _wow._


	83. Veela Harry

**Harry's a Veela and Voldemort would rather he wasn't. **

* * *

"My mate!" Harry yelled, running with graceful elegance towards a reeling Voldemort.

"Potter, what are you d- umph!" Voldemort coughed as the Boy Who Lived impacted. He cartwheeled his arms as he struggled not to fall on his back, inevitably losing the fight with gravity. The Dark Lord fell.

And Harry Potter landed upon him.

It took Voldemort a few seconds to realise he was choking. On something's long hair. On Potter's hair. And Potter was _nuzzling_ him.

"Are you purring!?" Voldemort accused, throwing the startled thing off him.

"You're my mate!" Harry squealed, clinging to the Dark Lord's fluttering robes with suddenly transformed claws that appeared out of nowhere conveniently, as Harry's just so good with his abilities, despite having had them for a few weeks.

"Mate? Mate? This is sounding more and more like that Twilight chapter by the minute," Voldemort grimaced and glanced around suspiciously, expecting Cedric to pop out from behind a graveyard and maul him.

"That beast won't come near my mate!" Harry snarled, his nose beginning to look suspiciously pointed.

"Wow. Just… calm down. Sheesh. You are… animalistic. I'm sure that Fleur girl wasn't this bad. She _was_ a civilised member of society, wasn't she?"

Harry shook his head, "Sorry, sorry. I was overcome by my emotions."

Voldemort looked unsure, "That's understandable, I suppose."

"She's a different type of Veela anyway. She's a… girl?" Harry shrugged. "Something to do with different chromosomes.."

"I don't know if that's how DNA works. Boys and girls aren't different species or something."

"It seems like they are to me. I doubt Fleur's Veela genes were activated on her Magical Majority."

"…Magical Majority?"

"Oh, it's when your creature genes are activated, and any characteristics or features you inherit immediately become apparent. It's weird, because for some reason me and Malfoy are the only ones who are affected by it, even though most of Slytherin are purebloods and related to the Malfoys. Even Ron should probably have some sort of inheritance, seeing as most pureblood families have married somewhere."

"It's weird how blondness suddenly means Veela. And since when are genes activated at a certain age? I know we have magic, but come on!"

"Dude, it's magic. Stop nit-picking!"

"So are you over that whole mate thing now?"

"Oh yeah. I'm thinking of holding a competition where male Veela will vie for my hand, since apparently I'm the first submissive/breeder in a while."

"One wonders why that's so important with all these genes activating."

"Mmm."

"One also wonders why Dumbledore would allow a huge crowd of foreigners into the castle, especially whilst at war."

"Oh, there's a secret Veela council with laws allowing it!"

"Ah, politics. Bloody thirsty and cruel, and for some reason Ministry-approved. You'd think the werewolves would have one of those if non-human governments and laws are allowed."

"I know! I'm allowed to execute people if they interfere!"

"Woah. Okay, that's a little… barbaric."

"Awesome, right? All previous personality of mine is now gone, to make room for instincts and Malfoy slapping/snogging-"

"Wormtail, stop drooling."

"Sorry Master… he's just… so _beautiful._"

Harry looked sheepish, "Sorry- pheromones. Oops."

"Ah. Pheromones- you from the 51st century?" Voldemort wiggled his eyebrows.

"Pardon?"

"Right. Not a Torchwood fan. Got it. So, how is it that since neither James nor Lily were Veela, you are? I mean shouldn't your mother at least be Veela? They would have at least had to have this contest thing, which you'd think Black or Lupin would have mentioned. It's not exactly inconspicuous."

"Well..."

"To be honest, I was under the impression that there weren't any male Veela, given that they're like the opposite of Harpies (and can transform into something like one when angered). Nevermind- now that everyone's a Veela, why isn't Snape? Because that would totally make sense given his _charm_ and all..." Voldemort rolled his eyes.

"I thought you hated Snarry?"

"I do."

"Larry forever!"

"SHUT UP WORMTAIL!" Harry and Voldemort chorused.


	84. Submissive Harry

**Just to be clear, I use Larry to mean Luna/Harry. I completely ship those two, and sometimes Harry/Luna/Hermione. Although rereading my chapters when Larry means Lucius/Harry ****_is_**** fun... but I don't ship them. I think that pairing may be even worse than Snarry as Lucius is married and has a son the same age as Harry. Ew. Although I have read one where Harry crossdressed and fell in love with Lucius. It was actually pretty good and the issues mentioned above were dealt with, as was the possibility of a magical transgender community. And it was _tasteful_. I know, I was surprised too.**

* * *

**Harry's submissive and Wormtail blames that bloody book.**

* * *

When Voldemort finally cleared the dramatic smoke from his eyes, coughing as he did, he didn't expect the sight before him. That's not to say he'd expected any of the sights in previous chapters- quite the opposite, in fact- but something about the quiet _wrongness_ of the boy before him caused him to start coughing.

Potter, standing with his head bowed and his hands in front of him, in a _collar_.

"What? Who dares enslave my enemy but me?"

"F-from what I can tell, D-Draco Malfoy, my lord. In a BDSM relationship thing." Wormtail flinched.

"Malfoy?! Is that true, Potter?"

"Master looks after me. He punishes me when I've been bad."

"Look, Potter, even _I_ have to admit this doesn't sound right. This sounds like a master-slave relationship to me, and that isn't good. What kind of things has he punished you for?"

"Speaking back, not doing what he says, objecting to something Master wanted to do."

"This is… bad, actually. That isn't a consensual relationship. This is _abuse_."

"But I came into my submissive heritage. Master is dominant. I was born to serve."

"First off; submissive and dominant? I understand leaning more towards one, but no one's _completely_ sub or dom. Secondly, submissive don't just serve. They get pleasure out of a BDSM relationship too. BDSM should be a recreational thing, with rules and safe words, with strict borders set out so both people in the relationship feel safe, confident and secure. This has neither! This is an emotionally abusive and manipulative relationship, based on fear! This is not _cute_, this is awful!"

"But it makes me feel safe when Master rules my every move and makes every decision for me."

"It really shouldn't. You're not giving control, he's _taking_ it. And even in an average and consensual BDSM relationship, the control isn't taken from every aspect of your life. He's suppressing your personality! Your original self would never submit to anyone; it's what made you such a strong character and an ideal idol. This is just turning you into…nothing."

"But-"

"And you're 14! I mean, I'm not bashing the lifestyle, but I really think you shouldn't do anything like…_this_ until you're at least over-aged! It could seriously effect your emotional development, especially in the teenage years where you're ruled by your instincts, emotions and hormones. And this isn't even BDSM! A consensual relationship, when neither is manipulated into doing things they don't want to and fantasies are played out, is fine. _This_ is _not_. Isn't Dumbledore doing something about this enslavement in his school?"

"All he said about it was don't fuck any goats, but otherwise he ignores it," said Harry.

"What about that mudblood civil rights friend of yours? I know I've said it before, but I really don't think she'd stand for this."

"Oh, Hermione just stands up for the rights of house elves because apparently their consent to work for wizards is wrong, even though it makes them happy-"

"I swear they're on drugs," Wormtail muttered.

"-but someone in an emotionally abuse relationship styled as BDSM is fine." said Harry. "Not to mention that she's apparently in several of her own with Sirius, Remus, Aberforth Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, miscellaneous goblins, centaurs and other creatures, Hagrid, Arthur Weasely, Bill Weasley, Charlie Weasley, Percy Weasley, Fred AND George Weasley, every Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff male, a few half-blood Slytherins, Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, Fudge, every male at the ministry and both Creevy Brothers, as well as Neville Longbottom, Seamus and Dean Thomas at the same time. Mostly Snape though. Yeah, she really gets around on this site."

"What site?"

"Nothing." Harry said, staring firmly at his feet, a pink blush spreading over his cheeks. His huge emerald eyes sparked on his elfin face, and his body was delicate and petite, with creamy white skin. Almost the opposite to the manly and muscled Draco Malfoy.

"Oh look, _now_ you're adorable. Your personality doesn't affect your looks, you know! Being sweet and quiet doesn't make you smaller and cute! It doesn't work that way!" He shook his fist in the air, glaring into the heavens.

"Who are you talking to?"

Voldemort scowled. "The writer of this dumb fic. A healthy relationship, especially a teenage one, is based on more than sex and domination. It needs mutual respect, from _both_ sides. That means respect for each other's opinions and choices."

"P-personally, I b-blame F-fifty Shades of G-grey, my lord."

"Stupid bloody book."


	85. Tourist Harry

**Well guys, I'm sorry to say, this but I'm off on holiday for a week now. A whole ****_week_****. So this will be the last update until next Saturday.**

**We're going camping and I have no WiFi or electricity, so I shall miss the first Doctor Who episode. WHY? *sobs helplessly whilst the heavens open up and rain soaks my pathetic face*.**

**Sniffle.**

* * *

**Harry's just a tourist, taking in the many 'wonders' of Britain.**

* * *

"Huh?" Harry squinted around him. "I can't see Buckingham Palace anymore! This so isn't in the guidebook- should I call, like, a taxi or something?" He giggled, "I'm totally lost- for such a small country it's, like, totally _big_! But this place is so _cool_. They just don't have places like this in America!"

"Harry Potter! Come to finally meet your fate at the hands of-"

"So this is, like, a genuine British graveyard? With like, real _British_ dead people buried here. Oh my god, do you think _Shakespeare_ has a grave here? He was British- wasn't he? Or was he French? Because, you know, the whole 'language of love' thing. I went to Paris last year actually. It was _amazing_. I saw, like, the Eiffel tower and those cutesy little café things? Yeah, I totally ate at one of those. Do you wanna see pictures? They're _all_ over Facebook, I got, like, a million likes. My friends were _so_ jealous."

Voldemort shook his head and stepped out of the shadows, "I know not of this 'Facebook', but-"

"Oh my god, you look just like that actor! The British one! With the hair and the eyes and the… oh my god- what film was he in again? Oh my god, I can't remember! That is gonna bug me for the rest of the day! What was it…?" Harry smacked his forehead in realisation. "Ralph Fiennes! In Skyfall! I can't believe I forgot- I loved that film! They were so _British_, and don't you think James Bond is such a cultural thing, which I'm really glad you guys have, 'cause I don't think-"

"Potter-"

"Oh my god, your accent is incredible! Do you do that normally or is that, like, put on? 'Cause if I could do a fake British accent I totally would- they're just so sexy!"

"This is my real voice-" Voldemort looked confused by the suggestion that he would fake his accent. Why would he pretend to be from somewhere else?

"I can't believe it; you sound just like the Queen. At least, what I _imagine_ the Queen to sound like. I mean, I've never met the Queen in, like, _real life_. Oh my god- have _you_ met the Queen? I bet you totally have. Don't all British people just line up and have tea and crumpets with the Queen? That is so cute-!"

"I'm not actually acquainted with Her Majesty-"

"Do you think the weather is bad? I mean, it's not raining! I totally expected it to be raining. Do you think it'll rain tomorrow? Oh my god- do you know Benedict Cumberbatch-"

"Avada Kedavra!"

Harry dropped to the floor, his stupidly large sunglasses tumbling off his face and disposable camera falling out of his limp fingers. Voldemort rolled his eyes at the corpse, _"Tourists."_ He rubbed his temples and sighed. "I need scones. And Doctor Who. And jam. Get me jam, Wormtail!"

"Y-yes Master! Should I bring the top hat?"

"Oh go on then, I might as well relax."

Wormtail walked off wondering where he was going to get a DVD player for Doctor Who... and electricity to power it... and a TV for that matter. If _only_ Britain had Wal-Mart.

But we don't.

Although _technically_ the American Cooperation who own Wal-Mart also own Asda, so we kinda do...

But that's a discussion for another time.

So yeah, I guess I'm done.

The end, I suppose. Voldemort watched Doctor Who and had jam.

And I'm sat in a tent.

In Wales.

I'm so jealous.

Of him, that is.

Oh Merlin, I'm jealous of Voldemort.

This is sad.

This is very, very sad.

I'm just gonna go now.

Tent.


	86. Weasley Harry

**I'm back! Yay! Whoop! Party! Only problem is that I injured my knee whilst camping and spend all day limping around, knives stabbing repeatedly into my joints. I feel like an old woman.**

**Also, gingers are awesome. I wish I had red hair, so so badly. Instead I've got this stupid golden-brown colour. Why couldn't I have gotten my grandmother's genes? ****_She's_**** a red head. Damn my mother.**

* * *

**Harry is a Weasley, and you know what that means...**

* * *

"Harry Potter has _kindly_ joined us for my rebirthing party."

All eyes turned to Harry.

All eyes blinked.

Voldemort rolled his eyes. "Please ignore the-"

One Death Eater took a step forwards. "Is Potter-?"

"Yes, yes he is," Voldemort muttered bitterly.

"But his _hair_-"

"I _know_," the Dark Lord said darkly.

"_Supposed_ to be like his father's-"

"It _was_."

"I knew James-"

"Lovely hair, he had. Thick and dark-"

"It washes Potter's skin out awfully-"

"I read in Witch Weekly-"

"Ten times as likely to catch the plague, I heard."

"It isn't _natural_."

"Kill it! Kill it with fire!"

"I don't like it. Will it eat me?"

"No soul, I heard-"

"Made a pact with Satan-"

"QUIET!" Harry's temper had finally reached a boiling point. He'd suffered _enough_ insults to his personage, thank you very much.

"But you're _ginger_!" Malfoy drawled, rolling a lock of his own white-blonde silk between his fingers.

"Yes, yes I _am_. And it's _dyed_, if that makes any difference. But it _shouldn't_, because red hair is _amazing_." Tears welled in Harry's eyes, "I just- I just wanted to fit in, you know. It's _hard_, when the rest of your family is ginger, and you're not. When you're the only black-haired child amongst a sea of flames. _And_ I was abused, and my adoptive mother inexplicably is a stay-at-home mum, even though our family is dirt poor and all her children go off to boarding school. We live off less that an average wage! _Eight_ of us! There are so _many_ ways a wizard could earn money in the muggle world- _reparo_ would do a world of good! I just don't get how someone with magic could be without money! But we _are_, and it's just so _hard_. And I'm not _ginger_."

"But it's. _Red. Hair_." Bellatrix exclaimed, her face the perfect picture of insanity, confusion and frustration.

"Don't whinge if you don't have a tinge of ginge in your fringe!" Harry snapped.

"Where did you get that from?" Voldemort asked dully, slumped against a gravestone and staring at Harry's hair with an air of dejection.

"Tim Minchin, I think?"

"I loved Matilda!" A squeaky voice piped up. All eyes turned to Wormtail. He cowered, "Sorry. Larry forever. Yay."

It was just too much for Lord Voldemort. The gingerness was hurting his head and he just wanted everyone to _go away. _"All of you; leave me, except Wormtail," he said, massaging his temples. "NOW!"

Everyone left, including Harry (who though about pointing out that Voldemort was the one who wanted to capture _him_ in the first place, but thought better of it.)

"Wormtail, I need Doctor Who. This time bring me chocolate... dark chocolate and biscuits- oooh!- and milk."

Wormtail left wondering where he would acquire the items (Voldemort had to make do with a bewitched muggle's living room and the entire box-set of Fawlty Towers last time.) If only _Magical_ Britain had Asda...

Or TVs. Or BBC. Or Doctor Who, for that matter. For an anti-muggle, Voldemort sure follows a lot of their culture. Which makes sense, if you think about it, as he _is_ a half-blood who grew up in London. In Second World War-torn London, actually. So shouldn't he know all about the damage muggles can do with guns, and stop all the 'they're harmless, really' nonsense?

He's insane, I guess. Stupid excuse, but what can you do?

At least I'm not camping.


	87. Brony Harry

**This turned crazy surprisingly quickly.**

**And Ginny was a loose plot thread. I had no choice.**

**See what references you can catch.**

* * *

**Harry is a Brony and you might be surprised...**

* * *

"I won't let you kill anyone, Wormtail!" Harry declared, stepping in front of Cedric.

"And how do you expect to stop him?" came the insane shriek from the rodent's arms.

Almost by magic (it was magic), Ron, Hermione, Luna, Ginny and Neville appeared in an arrow formation behind Harry. The Boy Who Lived grinned joyously and brandished his wand heroically. The others did the same, but not quite as nobly as Harry.

"WITH THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP!" they chorused.

Wormtail face-palmed. "Oh. My. _Merlin_."

Harry Potter was a-

_"Squeeeeee!_ _You're_ a fellow Brony! Oh. My. Merlin! Did you see that episode with the ball-" Voldemort yelled excitedly.

"Of course!" Harry grinned.

"What about the one when Celestia-"

"_Twice_. I have the DVD box set." Harry boasted.

"Do you have a TV?"

"Uh huh."

"Finally! Can I come over to yours- _please_? I've been meaning to re-watch series 2 for a while now."

"Certainly!"

And Harry and Voldemort held hands as they skipped into the sparkling sunset, singing a song about laughing at your fears and positivity.

Hermione shook her head disappointedly. "So _this_ is how it ends. Not with a battle to the death, but with a My Little Pony marathon."

"It's your fault for bloody going along with him," Ron muttered.

"I thought it would help him, Ronald. Harry has a _problem_ and, as his friends, we have a duty to try and help him solve that problem," Hermione glared, crossing her arms. "Besides, Dumbledore said 'love is the most powerful gift a person can bestow'."

"When did he say _that_?" Ron scoffed.

Hermione huffed defensively and she practically bristled. "It's in the general gist of everything he does!"

"Anyway, Dumbledore's bloody crazy!"

Hermione rose to her full height. "He's the greatest wizard of his generation, _Ronald_! I'd like to see _you _defeat a Dark Lord."

Ron snorted.

"Well he didn't defeat Grindelwald by dazzling him with his amazing fashion choices!" Hermione shrieked hysterically.

The ginger shrugged, "Wouldn't surprise me. He probably just showed him an episode of Spongebob or something."

Hermione drew a deep breath.

Luna's eyes widened. "There is a great disturbance in the force."

"That's not even a TV series!" A boy with a scarf over his face yelled.

"_Is_ that a TV series?" Neville questioned Luna sternly. She stubbornly refused to answer.

"Well?"

Silence.

_"Well?"_

She broke. "It's not, okay Neville? It's a film and a series of books, but I swear they're really good and-"

"Is it animated, at least?"

She shook her head meekly and mumbled something about 'blaming the nargles'.

Neville sighed. "Okay, go home."

"LARRY" Wormtail screamed, running towards the vague blonde.

"You too!" Neville ordered. "That is inappropriate behaviour."

Wormtail's head dropped sulkily, "Sorry." Wormtail turned to walk away. "_Bitca_," he muttered under his breath.

"Don't worry," Luna told him, brightening up and linking arms. "You can come home with me. We can have freshwater Plimpy soup."

"That's my favourite!"

"Perfect! The humdingers will _love_ you."

And then Ginny died. Sorry Ginny.


	88. Disney Harry

**Hey, does anybody here have any artistic talent at all? Cause I have nada, and I kinda want a cover for this. I'm sure I can slap something together, but I just wanted to see if anyone who could actually ****_do_**** covers would be willing. **

**Er... I don't have much to offer? Except chapter dedications. If you don't want to, that's cool. Just checkin'. I've been able to do covers for the rest of my stories, but this one's my favourite and I'd like a ****_good_**** cover, y'know? And that means not one of mine ;)**

* * *

**Voldemort discovers the wonders of Disney, and doesn't find them so wondrous after all.**

* * *

"A whole new world! A new fantastic point of view. No one to tell us no or where to go, or say we're only dreaming!"

"Make it stop!"

"All you need is love, and princesses with impossible proportions!" Harry said with a fixed grin. "And song! Ooh-bi-doo, I wanna be like you! I want to walk like you, talk like you, too! You see its true, an ape like me! Can learn to be like you, too!"

"Stop it! My head is dying!"

"Hakuna Matata! What a wonderful phrase! Hakuna Matata! Ain't no passing craze! It means no worries for the rest of your days! It's our problem-free philosophy-!"

"Please no more! I'll do whatever you ask, just end it! End me!"

"You've got a friend in me. You've got a friend in me. When the road looks rough ahead, and you're miles and miles, from your nice warm bed!"

Voldemort gritted his teeth, his expression turning from desperation to fury as the songs tore their way into every inch of his brain.

"You just remember what your old pal said! Boy, you've got a friend in me. Yeah you've got a friend in me!"

"That's it!"

"You can fly! You can fly! You can-"

"Die! Die, die, die! _Avada Kedavra!"_

"Salagadoola mechicka boola, bibbidi bobbidi boo! Put 'em together and what have you got? Bibbidi bobbidi-"

_"Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra!"_

Harry rose into the air, his eyes glowing and a malicious grin on his face. "You can't kill the Disney," he spoke, and it seemed like thousands of voices chorused with him. "Let it go! Let it go!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Voldemort woke up, panting heavily. "Phew. It was just a dream. Just a stupid-"

"What makes the red man red?"

"ARGHHHHHHH!..." screamed Voldemort as he threw his wand down and began choking Harry with his bare hands, a deranged look in his eyes. Harry stopped moving. Voldemort panted heavily and swallowed, "Wormtail..."

"A dream is a wish your heart makes, when you're fast asleep," sang Harry as he got up from the ground.

_"Avada Kedavra!"_ sobbed Voldemort as he turned his wand on himself, welcoming the sweet release of death. He opened his eyes and was relieved to find himself in darkness, with only the song of his breathing to be heard.

_Snort!_

Voldemort turned around slowly, icy dread freezing the contents of his stomach. And sure enough, standing before him...

Dumbo.

"Hello Satan, old friend," Voldemort spoke shakily. "I see I meet with you again... in the very depths of _Hell_."


	89. Time Traveller Harry

**Harry's from the future and Voldemort uses logic.**

* * *

"Hey Voldemort! Don't even _bother_ trying to come ba- oh, sorry, yeah. Carry on."

"What are you going on about Potter? I'm about to summon my Death Eaters, why aren't you worried?"

"BecauseIknoweverythingthat'sgoingtohappen-" Harry slapped a hand to his mouth in shock. "Whoa, I am _seriously_ bad at keeping that secret," his voice was muffled. "I broke down and told Dumbledore after a week! _And_ all my friends. _And_ the teachers. _And_ the whole Wizarding World. I'm just _really_, really rubbish at keeping secrets."

"What do you mean 'you know everything that's going to happen'?"

"… I didn't say that."

"Yes you did."

"No, I don't think I did."

"Did!"

"Didn't!"

"Did!"

"Didn't!"

"Did!"

"Okay, okay!" Harry broke down, sobbing. "I'm a time traveler, okay? I got sent back in time to my baby body/first year at Hogwarts after I died, to woo the love of my life, who first time 'round either didn't know of my love or died fighting you."

"And how's that going?" Voldemort asked scathingly.

"Surprisingly well, considering she's, like, 14 and I'm at least 50. I don't feel like a paedophile at all! Even though my mental age is far beyond all my classmates in every other subject. Apparently teenage hormones rule supreme!"

"That's… rather creepy. It's like being dated on the internet. You think you have some 14 year old hunk, but really it's a 40 year old man manipulating everyone around him for his own amusement."

"Yeah, but that's not the only reason I've come back via the power of the Master of Death/my parents in the death dream/the office of Death! My mission is to redo everything and make it better in an uncharacteristic series of manipulations and lies. I'm worse than Dumbledore!"

Voldemort raised his eyebrows. "You're tied to a gravestone."

"Mm hm," Harry affirmed with a little nod.

"At my resurrection ritual." Voldemort spoke slowly.

"Wow, you're really observant!" Harry grinned.

"And your enemy since birth has just been brought back to life."

"Yep!"

"How is this in any way 'better'?!" Voldemort exploded. "If you had future knowledge, surely you would have stopped me in first year! And if you did, there's no way these events would be happening as they did before, making your knowledge irrelevant."

"But I need you to be alive and in a body for my elaborate Horcrux finding plan to work!" Harry whined.

Voldemort looked disbelieving. "You know about the Horcruxes."

"Of course- time traveler here!" Harry gestured to himself with an expression of 'duh!'

"So why are they still alive?! I can feel them! I've been dead for 13 years! There was ample opportunity whilst I was out of action to destroy my anchors to lie and then kill me here! Or even sooner, like first year!"

"Huh. I didn't think of that. But you know I'll win in the end."

"Of _course_ you will. But still, _use the eagles,_ Potter. One does not simply walk, but one _can_ simply fly. _Use. The. Goddamn. Eagles."_


	90. Unlucky Harry

**Unluckily for Harry, Voldemort has brains.**

* * *

"Why don't we due-"

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Voldemort yelled, the sound of Harry Potter crumpling to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut echoing through the graveyard. He'd been trying for 3 _years_ to kill this impudent brat- did he _really_ think he was going to give him ample opportunity to come up with a plan and escape?

Harry suddenly came to, staggering to his feet as he gasped in great lungfuls of air.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Harry Potter dropped to the floor for the last time.

"Well done my lord!" Wormtail exclaimed. "Marvellous job!"

"I _was_ Head Boy," Voldemort rolled his eyes. "I can't have been _completely_ useless."


	91. Mutant Harry

**Harry is a mutant and everything is so much easier.**

* * *

"Potter-"

"Ice!"

Voldemort froze.

All was well.

* * *

"Potter-"

"Fire!"

Voldemort burned

All was well.

* * *

"Potter-"

"Metal manipulation!"

The graveyard gates twisted around Voldemort's wrists, trapping him.

All was well.

* * *

"Potter-"

"Telepathy!"

Voldemort sank to his knees, clutching his head in agony.

All was well.

* * *

"Potter-"

"Plasma blast!"

Voldemort turned into ash.

All was well.

* * *

"Potter-"

"Teleportation!"

Voldemort's head spun as he tried to keep his eyes on the swiftly moving figure, and he began to sway drunkenly.

All was well.

* * *

"Potter-"

"Flight!"

Voldemort cowered as Harry dive-bombed

All was well.

* * *

"You know," Harry mused. "This could all have been accomplished just the same, but with magic."

"Yes," Wormtail acknowledged. "But for some reason, Wizards only use two spells in combat."

"True, true."

_"Expelliarmus, stupefy!_" Harry yelled suddenly. "_Rennervate_."

"Darn it, you got me again!" Wormtail laughed.

"I get you _every_ time, it's a _guaranteed_ event. Because not _one_ forty year old is good enough at magic to stop second year spells."

"We're all idiots!" Wormtail declared cheerfully.

"Apparently."


	92. Gamer Harry

**Harry has difficulty distinguishing between reality and fiction, and I believe this says a great deal about our society . (See, I can be deep!)**

* * *

_Crack!_

The snap of a neck.

The crunch of fingers.

The slosh of blood.

Voldemort stared in shock at the bloody scene around him. "You are… _vicious_."

"These are awesome graphics!" Harry yelled, grinning maniacally. There was a click as he pulled a gun out of… _somewhere_. All Wormtail knew was that it was big, scary and probably had some ridiculous name like 'double-shot round pistol 20342 automatic'.

"It's time to kick ass and chew bubble gum... and I'm all outta gum," Harry smirked.

"P-please don't shoot me," Wormtail begged, stumbling away from the boy with the insane light in his green eyes.

"Don't worry," Harry assured him calmly. "You're not _real_."

_BANG!_

Wormtail crumpled.

"GTA for the win!" Harry yelled triumphantly.

"P-Potter, I don't think you should be playing with guns. I-I mean, even _I_ have a 16 age limit on joining the Death Eaters-"

"Age restrictions are for NOOBS! I'M BOSS!" Harry bellowed, brandishing his wand. "Avada Kedavra!"

Harry gazed on the corpse at his feet, and his eyes darkened. He slowly turned to face the distant village of Little Hangleton. "A new level," he breathed softly, face lighting up. He began to run, picking up speed as he blasted gravestones out of his way. "FOR CALL OF DUTY!" was his anthem.

And all around the world, teenage boys (and a few girls) lifted their heads in a small nod of acknowledgement. They saw their comrade's mission, and they _approved_.

Because there is nothing more twisted than the mind of a fourteen year old. _Nothing._

And Voldemort should have known that.


	93. Scottish Harry

**I hope you know that I wrote this whole thing with Peter Capaldi in mind. ****"I am Scottish. I can complain about things. I can really complain about things." ;)**

* * *

**Harry is Scottish and lovin' it. Voldemort? Less so.**

* * *

"Aye, I'm gonna stop you, you great English buffoon!" Harry yelled, thick Scottish accent dripping from every word.

"Sorry, what did you say?" Voldemort spoke slowly and loudly, like Harry was deaf. "I can't understand your _accent_. It's rather bewildering, all the vowels are in the wrong place."

"Don't you insult me, you bastard," Harry growled, straining against the ropes. "I'll show you some true Scottish spirit!"

"Scottish spirit, what even is that?" Voldemort dismissed. "Living in a country doesn't give you some kind of superpowers-"

"Ha! So you _can_ understand me."

"No, not a word."

"But you just-"

"Stop! Pronounce properly! Honestly, I need some tea."

"You just need some good Scotch whiskey-"

"I really don't-"

"You _do_. And you can understand me just fine!"

"Your accent is unintelligible and ridiculous. I hope you know I despise your country and all the people in it- oh, _wait_. You're not even a country, are you? Not a _real_ one," Voldemort taunted.

"Scotland will vote Yes, just you wait! And you British won't be laughing then!" Harry bellowed.

"How are children going to get to Hogwarts if you're an entirely different country? Are they going to have to cross border control and bring their passports?" Voldemort rolled his eyes and sighed, "And I really worry for your economy. Are you going to keep the pound or not? I feel like you haven't thought this through..."

"We'll do _fine_." Harry dismissed, "All you need in life in good Scotch, the bagpipes, and Haggis. "

"Merlin, that's disgusting."

"Aye, Merlin, he was Scottish you know!"

"What? No he wasn't! He was a great figure in magical history-"

"He was too, though."

"No-"

"Aye, and so was Morgana. And Ravenclaw? A proud Scot. THEY WERE ALL SCOTTISH, I TELL YOU!"

"No, no, you're making it all up."

"Aye, it was a Scottish witch that joint-founded Hogwarts so the masses of wee bairns could learn spells."

"No no no-"

"And we have kilts! I look amazing in mine, it gets a nice breeze blowing around your ball-"

And not even the powers of Harry's awesome Scottishness could stop Voldemort beating out that mental image- and his brains- on a conveniently placed tree.

Not that Harry really minded.


	94. Inheritance Harry

**Woah, this one's long. It's basically mocking several types of fanfictions all mixed together. Fun!**

* * *

**Harry and Griphook have a long indepth conversation about the content of Harry's vaults.**

* * *

"Mr Potter, we're here to discuss the fact that you're heir to the Merlin, Blackthorne, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Gryffindor, Peverell, Potter and Black line," a goblin read out, patting papers together and sitting down at his desk.

"Griphook!" Harry exclaimed. "I keep running into you in every story- what a coincidence! It's almost like you're the only goblin there is!"

"Yes. It's almost like every other one of my brethren were killed in a horrific slaughter conducted by wizards," Griphook sneered.

"Really?" Harry looked horrified.

"No." Griphook replied curtly, directing his attention to a book on his lap.

"Then why did you say it!?" Harry exclaimed.

"Goblin humour." Griphook cleared his throat. "So, Mr Potter, we've been sending you letters for over 3 months now, and we've had no reply-"

"You've been sending me letters, but you didn't need me to come in for any kind of meeting or anything to discuss my account with you?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Well, no, but we're very angry now we've found that this has been happening and, as such, are now willing to sort your whole life out- for _free_."

"But I thought you were a materialistic race with a general disdain for wizards, due to a long series of wars, so long that they took 6 years of my life to study in History of Magic? And now you're willing to help a naive wizard boy out, at no extra cost, just because of some problem that was due to no great mess up of your own?"

"We're all just big fluffy bunnies deep down," the goblin agreed dryly. "Now, back onto the subject. Your mail has _clearly_ been blocked. Therefore, we can only assume it's Albus Dumbledore, doing some kind of awful, manipulative goat thing."

"Are you sure it's not a problem in your system-"

"No."

"But maybe if you just investigate, maybe there's an issue-"

"_No_. Albus Dumbledore is evil and that's that. All the goblins hate him, his account is hereon blocked."

"Can you _do_ that? Is that even _legal_?"  
"Apparently."

"Oh." Harry paused to let that sink in. "But you have his money, don't you? And you're not letting him get to it? I'm pretty sure that's some form of stealing? How is he supposed to pay for lawyers-"

"Don't know, don't care. Now, onto the next thing-"

"Hang on. So even though I'm under-aged, you've still been sending me bank statements for years?"

"No," Griphook said slowly. "When you were placed in the tournament, you were automatically of legal age and therefore are emancipated."

"I'm pretty sure I should have had some kind of documents informing me of this-"

"Dumbledore. Evil."

"Oh. I still feel like we're jumping to conclusions here-"

"He's been spending your money on his own personal needs, whilst bribing your family to beat you."

"He's _WHAT_?!" Harry yelled. "_How_ did you find this out?!"

"Oh we have receipts."

"And you _missed_ this for 14 years?"

"Goblins are really bad bankers." Griphook shrugged.

"And the Wizarding World- a place notorious for its prejudice- just entrusted its ONLY bank to you?" Harry raised an eyebrow sceptically.

"Obviously," the goblin answered crisply.

Harry sighed, his fists clenching. "How did he get control of my money?" he hissed furiously.

"Your parent's will."

"I'm certain my parents didn't entrust their life's saving and inheritance to a lying, manipulative, goat fucki-"

"They didn't."

"But you _just_ said-"

"I meant that he ordered the will sealed and declared that he was in charge of your estate, sending you off to live in poverty with your muggle relatives. He's been living the high life ever since."

"That is fucked up. Didn't anyone ever question him about me or the legitimacy of his claim? Surely some purebloods must have looking to gain influence by having me under their guidance-"

"Nope. Oh, and the entirely Weasley family are also being bribed," said Griphook. "Well, except for Fred and George and Mr. Weasley, although he might take money somewhere." Griphook shrugged.

"Great, of course they are."

"On the plus side, you're a Lord."

"Yay. Politics- _exciting_. The first thing I'm going to do is vote and start beating Dumbledore with a series of complicated ancient laws. Because that's just what every teenager wants to do with his time," Harry said sarcastically.

"You have several seats on the Wizengamot."

"Whoo," Harry cheered unenthusiastically. "I'm fourteen, I have to admit, this doesn't mean a lot to me."

"You have several properties."

"That's good, I guess?"

"A lot of money."

"I'm actually quite pleased with that one. You know, penniless orphan."

"And you'll need one wife for each title," said Griphook.

"Oh good, well, that'll take care of my hormonal teenager side. It doesn't matter about the disrespect shown and the fact that my wives are viewed as property, only married to me so they can bare heirs to each line. This is a totally good message!" said Harry.

"And…" The goblin paused and then sighed, "You can legally drink."

"YES! I AM GONNA GET SO DRUNK! LET'S TRY FIREWHISKEY! BARS HERE I COME! TO HELL WITH THE POLITICS! LET'S PARTY!"

Griphook groaned and his head hit the table.

"Hello! I'm sorry, are you _finished_ yet? This doesn't seem like an appropriate time for a bank meeting- or a rave- and I've just transported you here and everything… Plus I like an element of realism in my fanfictions…" Voldemort piped up.

"Shh," Harry scolded. "Haven't you got it yet? There's _nothing_ realistic here about an of-age fourteen year old boy. This whole story is mostly exposition and bank meetings where we discuss how poor/rich I am, and I get life lessons. And a lot of Wizarding politics."

"Is there _no_ conflict, tension- is there even any _mention_ of me?"

"Not really."

"That sounds… boring," Voldemort noted uncertainly, and with a certain degree of shock.

Harry shrugged. "There are enough _of_ them. _Some_ people must find them enjoyable."

"Who could possibly like a story with no drama filled solely with money and houses?"

"Probably an accountant," Harry mused. "And possibly an estate agent."

"LARRY FOREVER"

"Shut up Wormtail!" said Harry, Griphook, Voldemort and Cedric at the same time.

"Where have _you_ been?" Harry asked Cedric.

"Dead."

"Oh. Sorry."

"No, that's okay. I get that a lot."


	95. Deaged Harry

**Harry is deaged in potions, and Malfoy is a dick- is that really Snape?**

* * *

"Goo goo gah gah!" Harry burbled, waving his chubby little arms in the air. He was the cutest baby in the world; with sparkling emerald eyes and a full head of feathery black hair (because even if he is a few months old, there's no way _Harry Potter_ would look like a normal baby).

"Arghh!" Voldemort screamed, leaping back. "Don't hurt me! Please! I swear I won't _Avada_ you!"

"Goo boo bah?" Harry asked inquisitively, cocking his head and gazing up curiously.

Voldemort trembled.

"What happened to Potter?" Wormtail scoffed.

"Harry has clearly been deaged due to an incident in potions," Dumbledore said mysteriously, a manipulative twinkle in his eye. "Severus, as the member of staff with the _least_ experience with young children, I'd like you to look after the Boy Who Lived. You clearly have nothing better to do; it's not like you need to try and find a cure or anything!" Dumbledore chuckled.

"Of course I won't look after the brat, Albus," Snape sneered. "I'm staying in character. He needs discipline, any child of Potter's-"

"But he has Lily's eyes-"

"OH MY MERLIN HE'S SO ADORABLE! JUST LET ME HUG HIM AND SQUEEZE HIM AND JUST- URGH! I CAN'T EVEN-!" Snape clutched a rather alarmed Harry to his chest and squeezed tight, ignoring the bulging of the baby's eyes.

"That's sorted then," Dumbledore sighed contently, content that his ingenious plan to leave a baby with a bitter old bachelor obsessed with the child's mother was a success.

"Albus," Snape began dramatically. "There are two things that could make me this out of character in any 'believable' fanfiction: getting laid-I"

Pettigrew covered Harry's ears.

"-and a baby. And _this_ is a baby. Just look at how adorable he is! He's a miniature little human being, with _tiny_ little hands and toes and fingers and ears and- do you know what? I'm going to ask Draco to help. Someone who will try to use the torture curse on Harry in the future is clearly the best person to look after him in a vulnerable state!"

Albus' eyes twinkled proudly, "I couldn't have come up with a better idea myself."

"I'm going to get a fashion sense! No more billowing robes for me!" Snape declared. "And I will use shampoo! My hair shall be a sheet of smooth, ebony silk! And I shall be hot!"

Voldemort fainted.

"All this because of a baby?" Wormtail questioned doubtfully.

"It is not the person that makes the difference, it is the people around them," Dumbledore said wisely.

"No, I'm pretty certain it's the baby."

"Shut up."

"Who's your 'Daddy Severus'? I am, I am!" Snape cooed, blowing raspberries on Harry's stomach as the baby shook with laughter.

Wormtail hid his face in his hands. "Oh. My. _Merlin_."


	96. Harem Harry

**Harry has a harem, what a head-case.**

* * *

"Harry Potter," Voldemort hissed, dark robe flowing behind him as he prowled, snake-like-

"Hey Voldemort! Meet my wives!"

"… What?"

"My wives! All twelve of them!"

"Twelve?"

"Twelve!" Harry agreed with a nod.

"I get trios, I really do. And I kind of get that 'love's beautiful' crap Dumbledore that spews out- but I really, _really_ doubt that you can be in love- _desperate_ love, enough to get _married_\- with twelve girls."

"Oh, I'm not in love with them, but they're in love with me!" Harry grinned cheerfully.

"That… doesn't seem fair. And rather objectifying, if you're just with them for the sex. That's another point: traditionally harems were collections of women whom royalty and nobles kept around to have sex with. You're fourteen and, as far as I can tell, _not_ an emperor."

"Oh no no, I don't have sex with them. Not for another week."

"_Excuse_ me?"

"Listen, I'm a very sexually active fourteen year old- no, that's not the _point_. The point is, I have a lot of titles. And I need a wife for each one, to produce an heir for each line."

"First of, I'm certain that's not legal. Secondly, that makes _no_ sense. For you to be heir to all of those lines, your father would have had to first be heir to them. And he only had one wife, and now you're heir to them all, so it's clearly possible-"

"He didn't have time to get another wife?"

"He had a year."

"Look," Harry snapped. "The goblins said I have to, and so I have to. Don't argue with me."

Voldemort looked furious. He stepped forwards, his wand raised.

"Girls, protect me!" Harry yelled, and a nameless brunet stepped in front of the Boy Who Lived to take the blow. She crumpled lifelessly to the floor. Voldemort stared at her, "I don't think her parents will be too happy with that."

Harry shrugged, "Her father was totally fine with selling her off in exchange for political favours. I don't think he'll mind."

Voldemort sighed. "Introduce me to the 'wives' of yours Potter, even if it's just so I know who to kill."

"Okay." Harry took a deep breath. "This is…" he pointed at a girl of Indian heritage, who was absently playing with her hair. He paused, clearly racking his brains. He deflated. "I'm sorry, which one are you again?"

"The one with the voluptuous curves and tiny waist? Long thick hair, down to my waist? Gorgeous?" the girl insisted.

"I'm sorry, that's all of you. It's just really hard to tell you apart, I mean, you have no personality!" Harry rolled his eyes.

The girl sighed, defeated. "I'm Padma. Padma Patil."

"Oh sorry."

"It's okay, I know you love me really."

"Yeah…" Harry nodded unconvincingly. He went on to the next girl. "And this is Hermione!" he cheered enthusiastically.

"Oh Harry," she simpered. "I'm so happy with you, and fine that you have twelve other wives! I just need a husband to affirm myself, love conquers all!"

"… But somehow _not_ Hermione," Harry tapered off with a frown. "And this is Luna, Lavender, Parvati… and Sue? Is it Sue?"

"Sue Li, Harry," a small Chinese girl answered respectfully.

"Huh. And Tonks and… some others. You there! Have you always been here?"

"Yes Harry."

"Oh. I lose track."

"You know Potter, I've never wanted to kill you as much as I do now."

"It's funny how many girls keep saying that. I can't think why."

There was a pause and a collective series of 'hmm's and 'I can't think either' from each girl.

"Well," Harry shrugged. "I guess they're just jealous."


	97. Phoenix Harry

**Harry is saved by the power of...**

* * *

Harry cowered under the wand of Lord Voldemort.

And then he was saved.

"SNOW PHOENIX!" Hedwig hooted, transforming into a gorgeous white bird with impressive plumage and a convenient mental connection to Harry, because he was the most 'pure of heart' fourteen year old ever. Snow Phoenixes are extremely rare, like, only one in every million snowy barn owls is a Snow Phoenix. Because they're, like, the same colour and everything. That makes them the same bird, right?

"Woah," Wormtail observed. "Pet shop owners are really, _really_ stupid."

And Voldemort, entranced by the beauty of the Snow Phoenix, didn't notice Hedwig pick him up and drop him of in some 'Phoenix homeland', which was actually another dimension. Doctor Who crossover! No, but seriously, when were there alternate dimensions where phoenixes live in the Wizarding World? Although, vanishing spells do send objects into 'non-being, that is, to say, everything'. Which could be a way of saying another dimension. Oh my god, there are alternate dimensions in Harry Potter! And what if the Doctor is in one of them?

... Nope, I'm still not buying it.

And why does a Snow Phoenix live in a volcano? And why _is_ there a Snow Phoenix anyway? They're associated with the sun, not the four elements. Sheesh.

I just don't know why mythology bothers, sometimes.


	98. Abused Harry

**Harry is abused and he should seriously be dead by now.**

* * *

"OUCH!" Harry yelled, bending over in pain and clutching his stomach in pain.

"Potter, you're not going to die on me, are you?" Voldemort narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "I want to kill you myself."

"No," Harry gasped, wheezing heavily. "I'm just trying to deal with the intense pain of every bone in my body being broken. Nothing to worry about."

"What?"

"My arms, my legs, my ribs-"

"Your RIBS!?"

"Ribs are as easy to snap as twigs, didn't you know?" Harry gave a bitter laugh. "They're constantly in shattered pieces, it's a surprise my heart hasn't slipped down onto my diaphragm or something crazy. Or at least pierced a lung. I should really be dead by now, and there's no way I should be able to physically walk, let alone fool my friends into believing I'm fine for weeks. And no amount of 'magical healing' can fix a punctured lung, it's not possible. I had a broken, and then bone-less, arm in second year, which was closer to the ideal age for accidental magic than I am now, and was it healed magically? No! If all injuries and illnesses healed magically, would there be a need for healers?

"And honestly, they have me recovering from every serious, life-threatening injury all though my childhood overnight, and then as soon as it's convenient for the plot, it starts failing and I start collapsing at random intervals. Is there any evidence that magic gets weaker as you grow up? Is Dumbledore powerless? No! Then I don't see why they have my amazing 'accidental magic', that really shouldn't exist or at least be as good as it apparently is/was, suddenly failing when it's worked for thirteen years. If it's continued until puberty I don't understand-"

"_Who_ has you doing these things? What are you talking about?"

"Uh, nothing?" Harry laughed nervously, shuffling in front of the fourth wall as if to protect it from merciless typing.

"But why are your ribs broken? That's what I don't understand," Wormtail piped up.

"Oh, my Uncle beats me mercilessly," Harry shrugged. "It's no biggie. Dumbledore doesn't really care, 'cause he's a dick."

"WHAT?" Voldemort yelled. "He HITS you?! Well that's it then. My evilness is at an _end_. As a sociopath, I empathize with your pain, as I, too, was abused. No magical child shall suffer! This shall be my call!" said Voldemort, holding his wand aloft in a heroic pose.

"Wow," Harry marvelled, "That was a bit OOC. Are you going to change your backstory, maybe make it so you had a harder time from the adults as a child (because they weren't all terrified of you), which would make this sudden sympathy more understandable?"

"Nope."

"Oh well." Harry shrugged. "You _have_ tried to kill me in the past. When in doubt, turn from your abusive uncle to your murderous arch nemesis."

"Great message!" Cedric yelled sarcastically.

"_Avada kedavra!"_

Harry raised his eyebrows chidingly at Voldemort. "'No magical child shall suffer?'"

"What? My strange empathy for children has to have _some_ limits." Voldemort said defensively. "He wasn't abused. He deserved to die."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "I'll accept it."

And they skipped into the sunset. Well, Harry limped.

Oh _no_, looks like a lung punctured and he drowned in his own blood.

How unfortunately realistic

Sad.


	99. Mpreg Harry

**Harry is pregnant and it just can't ****_happen_****!**

* * *

"You're having my baby," Cedric hummed, resting his hand on Harry's swollen abdomen. "What a wonderful way of saying how much you love me…"

Harry sighed and resting his head on Cedric's shoulder, a slow contented smile spreading across his face. "I'm so lucky to have you, Ced," he trilled, his large emerald eyes blinking up at his lover.

"No _I'm_ the lucky one. Lucky to have-"

"WOAH!" Wormtail yelped, stumbling out of the shadows and spying Harry's humongous extended stomach. "What is _happening_?"

"I'm pregnant!" Harry declared brightly, tapping his belly.

"Yes, I got that thanks. I'm choosing to ignore the moral implications and danger of a pregnant fourteen year old carrying the child of a seventeen year old because otherwise I'll feel like I've repeated myself- hang on, you _are_ the father, right?" He asked Cedric.

"Yes, I _think_ so!" Cedric grinned. "It could be mine, Malfoy's, or Snape's, but since it says me in the summary I'll go with the first one!"

"But you- pregnant- it can't happen!" Wormtail protested.

"Um, hello? Yes it can," Harry gestured to his baby bump. "He gave me his love juice and BOOM! Hello baby mama Harry Potter!"

"But _how_? You need fallopian tubes and ovaries and all that stuff!" Wormtail stumbled over his words, eyes wide.

"What are ovaries?" Harry asked innocently.

"Don't they teach sex ed at Hogwarts yet?" Voldemort piped up grumpily. "I get the absence in my days; we were all prudes back then, but surely the world has moved on by now…"

"Well, we _are_ still using candles," Cedric shrugged. "So we're obviously not the most advanced society, despite being based smack-bang in the middle of London, the capital of a First World country. Honestly, I worry for Harry when he has the baby. Who's to say they aren't still using medieval methods? Huge numbers of women perished in childbirth-"

"That's another thing," Wormtail added. "How is Potter going to have the baby? He doesn't have any kind of... openings or ducts. I mean, he's not going to just poop it out, is he?" Wormtail giggled wildly at the thought, but tapered off when he saw the look on Cedric and Harry's faces. "You are, aren't you?" he stated in disbelief.

"Well, not _exactly_." Harry looked up nervously at his partner, and the Hufflepuff patted his arm reassuringly. "You see, the fanfiction always blacks out at this point, but I can only assume they either have to cut it out of me, or I tear my ass open. Or maybe it magically expands, I don't know. For a pregnant male; I've done worryingly little research. But anyway, I don't think I have any of that 'fallov' thing that's in _girls_. I have a penis!"

"Okay, what about your mudblood friend? I mean I know the wizard world may be behind, but surely she has tried to reason with you and tell you about anatomy and how impossible this is. At the very least she's helped you do some research."

Harry wrinkled his nose, "But Hermione is a- urgh- _girl_. Why would I even acknowledge her existence, much less ask her about pregnancy and anatomy, even though she is brilliant and her parents are dentists and probably know as much about anatomy as a medical doctor would. For that matter, why would she even _exist_?"

Cedric patted his hand reassuringly.

"Why would you even need to know about bodies or anything whilst having a baby? Magic sorts everything out. My inherent magic needs no directing and can carry a baby to term!" Harry grinned. His partner shook his head in equal bewilderment.

"But- but you're a hermaphrodite? Aren't you?" Wormtail looked a little frustrated.

"A whatwhat?" Harry screwed up his face in confusion.

"Someone with male and female reproductive organs. You should really know this Potter," Voldemort lectured.

"But I'm not a hermy thing!" Harry objected. "I'm a man!"

"But-"

"Male!"

"How do you grow the baby-"

"That's an m for mpreg, not h!"

"I don't-"

"I have testosterone and everything-"

"STOP!" Wormtail yelled. "If you don't have a womb, then where does the baby grow? Where does it get its nutrients? How is it _supported_?"

"I have a tummy like a girl!" Harry protested. "I can have a baby like one!"

Wormtail shook his head and waved Cedric and Harry away. "Get out of here. You're clearly 12, and I don't want to see what god-awful baby names you come up with."

"But Hope's a wonderful name-!" Harry was heard protesting as Cedric gripped his arm and twisted on his heel, causing the pair to disappear.

There was a moment of silence in the graveyard.

"You know, you were rather good there, Wormtail," Voldemort complimented.

"Thanks."

"Ever thought of-"

"I considered it but then thought 'teaching about vaginas to first years'? S'not really my cup of tea."

"Huh. You would have been good at it."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah, of course I do. I wouldn't lie to you, Wormtail."

Wormtail looked surprised and delighted. "Why thank you my Lord! For some reason I feel we should do a romantic duet."

"We're not doing 'can you feel the love tonight' Wormtail. Stop _asking_."

"But it would be perfect"

"Let it _go_, dude. Just. Let. It. Go."

All of a sudden, Harry reappeared, rubbing his rounded belly with a pensive look on his face. "Hey, do you guys know a hospital? Because the only one of I know is St Mungos, and I don't want the news of my child getting out. And I don't think the school Hospital Wing is entirely qualified."

All of a sudden, Harry's stomach gurgled. "But it's not time to give birth yet," he said moaned.

Then a huge giant white worm burst out of Harry's stomach. The worm looked at Cedric and Wormtail and promptly devoured them, because it is physically impossible for a human male to get pregnant, therefore the only logical conclusion was that Harry had consumed some sort of giant magical parasite egg, which then proceeded to go on a vicious killing spree across the world.

Thanks a lot Harry! You just _had_ to get not-pregnant. Deal with adoption or surrogacy like the rest of gay men!

So the next time you see a huge white worm advancing upon you ready to rip off your face and eat it, thank Harry Potter.

_Thanks_ Harry!


	100. Larry Harry

**THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER!**

* * *

**IMPORTANT THING YOU MUST READ: So this is it guys; 100 chapters. The problem is, I'm conflicted. I have two more chapters written out, and 5 more planned with concepts. I also have countless more ideas left in my brain, but I don't want to get too repetitive or drag this out.**

**EVEN MORE IMPORTANT THING: So, I am putting it to you, dear readers. I have started a poll. Yes, a POLL! I never do these, but I wanted to get your opinion. So please, please, please vote on that and give me your opinion.**

**Anyway, thank you for helping me get to 100, guys. Your support has been phenomenal, and I wouldn't have been able to do it without you.**

* * *

**Yes, Larry is Luna/Harry not Lucius.**

* * *

**Harry loves Luna and Wormtail- Wormtail... well, you'll see.**

* * *

"OMM! 100 CHAPTERS! IT'S FINALLY HAPPENING!" Wormtail screamed excitedly. "OH MY MERLIN! OH. MY. MERLIN! IT'S YOU TWO! TOGETHER! AS ONE! A COUPLE! TWO PEOPLE! IN A RELATIONSHIP! AND IT'S YOU TWO!" Tears brimmed in Wormtail's eyes. "I-I-I've been waiting for this f-for the whole s-story and now it's coming _true_!" He bawled and threw himself to the floor, wretched joy overwhelming him. "You're so _perfect_-"

"Wormtail I feel I have to speak up," Lord Voldemort began, his voice coloured with concern. "I didn't want to mention it, but I really think you might need therapy-"  
"No my Lord! _No_! No, _listen_ to me! They're so wonderful! They were _made_ for each other! She's always been a bit off and ostracised so she would completely understand how he feels disconnected and singled-out! He would never judge her! They both lost parents! THEY ARE GOD!"

Voldemort, Harry and Luna stared down at Wormtail's pathetically quivering form.

"Dude, calm down," Harry murmured. "We just hold hands. We're not _married_ or anything."

"_I_ came for the Nargles," Luna said, eyes wide with wondrous amazement.

There was a collective 'aww'.

"I hear they hang around dead bodies," she finished with an empty smile.

Harry gave her an uncertain smile. "That's nice, Luna."

"Thank you Harry!" she smiled, and pecked him on the cheek. Harry blushed, mumbling, "Lucky 100."

"Oh _no_," Luna said seriously, her face returned to its previous deranged expression, "The _Wrackspurts_ are the lucky ones. They get to feed off the tears of the mourning."

"Wonderful, dear."

"I know!" she grinned brightly at him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"It's so beautiful!" Wormtail cried.

There was a muffled shout in the background: "Snarry forever!"

"SHUT UP! Everyone hates Snarry!" screamed Wormtail, running off into the darkness of the graveyard to kill whoever would _dare_ to soil the wonderful, _sacred_ Larry.

There was a pause.

"Well the Blibbering Humdingers sure got _him_," said Voldemort.

Luna and Harry stared at Voldemort.

"What?"


	101. Cafe Harry

**I HAVE DECIDED UPON THE NUMBER GUYS. THE NUMBER OF CHAPTERS. IT'S 11. HOLY 11. So.. yeah, 11. I'll probably move onto 'The Art of Flamboyancy' and a new one which is going to be where logic could be used in fanfiction and the original Harry Potter books. A bit like 'Plothole!Harry' for the entire series. And it'll kinda be in this style, so check that out when this is finished.**

* * *

**Harry runs a cafe and Voldemort doesn't want none of that ice bun, hun! **

* * *

"Can you hurry this up? I've got a batch of scones on the go and I need to be back in five," Harry complained, checking his wrist and tapping his foot impatiently.

"You're not wearing a watch- wait. You have _stones_ on the go?" Wormtail asked loudly.

"_Scones_. I have _scones_ on the go," Harry explained through gritted teeth.

"Why do you have _scones_?" Voldemort piped up, dragging the 'oh' further than a marathon.

"I run a café," Harry sighed at their bewildered looks. "The Marauders? The most obvious title in the- never mind. We've had smashing reviews." He checked his bare wrist again. "_Annnd_ they're burnt. Oh well."

"No no no, go back a bit," Wormtail frowned.

Harry groaned. "What logical problem are you going to find with me _now_? There's nothing wrong with a 14 year old running and owning a café. Cooking for your obese relatives _clearly_ qualifies you to run a quality confectionery, and I certainly don't require _training_ to create my delicacies!"

_"You just named every problem,"_ Wormtail mouthed in disbelief, eyes open wide in amazement.

"Okay," Voldemort picked up from where Wormtail had turned catatonic. "I think what my dear eternal slave here is trying to say is: there is an _issue_ with that. With _everything_ you've just said."

"But-"

"Nope. It has become clear to me that I will have to explain this like I do _everything_ else in this _goddamn _fanfiction, so explain I will." He took a deep breath. "Does becoming emancipated qualify you to own and run a café? I know you're responsible and everything, but that's a lot of pressure for a boy barely out of puberty. There are financial issues, loans, how much money you're making- do you have a financial manager?"

"I have a goblin in charge of my family vaults that I saw once?" Harry shrugged sheepishly.

"Yeah, you're gonna want to look at those numbers. I doubt a café only open for the summer holidays would make enough back to pay for mortgage or rent. You have to go to school, don't you? Look, there are _so_ many problems with this idea. How do you even start a cafe? Do you need a license? I'm fifty, and I don't even know how to start a cafe!"

"Goblins are strangely invested in pastries."

"Huh. But it makes no sense- why on earth would you finally get freedom from your abusive relatives and decide; 'let's start a café!'"

"Well I found out Dumbledore betrayed me and was just manipulating me to kill you-"

"Usually when getting over a breakup you cut your hair or redecorate your room. Burn photos or something! I have never heard of selling food being the new ice cream."

"Well I finally had independence, and I always wanted to have a café. My relatives used to make me cook for them from a dangerously young age and a teenager suddenly given freedom is likely to be a bit reckless."

"... That makes a surprising amount of sense. Your reasoning anyway, everything else is worrying. So where _is_ 'The Marauders'?"

"It's open to the muggle and wizarding world-"

"Of course it is."

"-It's muggle book themed, and the wizarding entrance is on Vertical Alley."

"… That's not a real place."

"It is now. Not as light as Diagon Alley but not as dark as Knockturn. Kinda grey. It's where all the cafes are, because owning a food shop immediately makes you neutral in the duel between good and bad. I'm going to amaze everyone with my acceptance and destruction of prejudice by hiring a vampire! There are so many OCs!"

"_And_?"

"The rest of the story is the Order looking for me but somehow missing the quickly-growing-popular café named after the well-known prank group my dad was in, and me expanding the menu."

"It's just a Harry Potter version of those 'let's cook' DS games."

"Yep. You know you love it. Which is good, because there's a surprisingly large number of them."

Wormtail croaked out, "All those cafes... diabetes... _Larry_…" and crumpled to the floor in a dead faint.

Voldemort kicked his body. "I think he's dead."

"He'll be fine," Harry dismissed. "A few of these lemon tarts and he'll be up in no time!"

"Oh for Merlin's sake..."


	102. Potter Puppet Pals Harry

**Whatever is that... mysterious ticking noise?**

* * *

"Potter," Voldemort squinted. "Are you a- a puppet?"

Harry checked to one side. And then to the other. "Maybe I am."

"But- but, I mean- what?"

"Snape, Snape," Harry began.

"Severus Snape-" Yaxley continued.

"DUMBLEDORE!" Wormtail yelled.

"Ron, Ron, Ron, Ron Weasley!" Lucius piped up.

"Hermione, Hermione, Hermione, Hermione," Dolohov joined in.

"Harry Potter, Harry Potter- urgh! Harry Potter, Harry Potter- urgh!" Harry grunted.

"Snape-"

"Harry!"

"Snape-"

"Harry!"

"Snape-"

"Harry-"

"DUMBLEDORE!"

"Heeeeermione!"

Voldemort buried his face in his hands. "Oh my Merlin, you've all gone mad."

And then Voldemort woke up. He sat still for a moment, cocking his head as he listened to a persistent... noise.

"Wormtail!"

"Yes, my Lord?"

"What is that Mysterious Ticking Noise?"

"I don-"

BOOM!

Ron crawled out from under the bed. "It was a pipe bomb! Yay!"


	103. Deaf Harry

**Harry can't hear a damn thing (or _can_ he?), and Voldemort sure can't understand sign language.**

* * *

"Harry Potter, the guest of honour. It seems fated that we meet again- so I can _destroy_ you!" Voldemort waited for Potter to spit disgustedly, call out a defiant remark, even bloody _cry_ but… nothing. "I had to kill that pathetic Hufflepuff to get you here, but it seems yet another person has to die for you. More blood on your hands, eh Potter?"

Voldemort looked at the Boy Who Lived expectantly, but he was silent and... waving his hands around…? Merlin, was he having a fit?

"Is he dying? Wormtail? What's _happening_ to him?" he shouted angrily, bearing down with flashing eyes on his trembling slave.

"M-my lord…" A trembling drawl.

Ah.

_Lucius_.

Yes, Lucius?" he hissed out, the silky threat slipping easily off his forked tongue. He had yet to get used to that.

"Th-that's sign language. P-potter is d-deaf. There was a p-potions incident… W-we thought you knew that."

There was a unanimous murmur from the assembled Death Eaters, and Voldemort would have punished them for their insolence had he not been so busy furiously processing the information. Potter…

Deaf…

Unable to speak…

Unable to cast verbal spells…

Unable to hear…

Wait-

"WHAT?" Voldemort shrieked. "But how am I supposed to give my long monologue on how evil I am, revealing my plan and every way to stop it, whilst also giving him the opportunity to escape? I _need_ that!" he stomped his foot petulantly.

"I'm s-sorry my lord," Lucius murmured.

"Fix him! Make it happen!"

"My lord, it's not that simple. I can't just _make_ a deaf boy hear again-"

"Do it! _Do it_ or I'll _crucio_ the whole lot of you!"

"Yes, my lord, but it's just not as _easy_ as you think," Lucius said through clenched teeth, and motioned for Crabbe and Goyle to untie the boy.

"B-but why not?"

All eyes turned to Wormtail. He gulped under the attention, but soldiered on. "We have magic after all; if the damage is physical, then it can be repaired magically; if the damage is magical, then there are still ways to fix the damage. If the damage is curse damage (even though it was a potions incident, and so unlikely), and there's no way to fix it, he can still get a special magical hearing aid that will give him hearing on par with normal human hearing, surely. I mean, we can heal bones overnight!. It might not be pleasant, but I'm sure he would gladly take a bit of discomfort if it meant he got his hearing back!"

A disbelieving silence.

"Oh..." Wormtail stuttered uncomfortably, "Sorry, I mean, um... Larry forever?"

Lucius and Harry both looked disgusted.

"NO! No, not- not _that_... the _other_ Larry..."

"Oh" said Lucius. Harry looked relieved. Phew.


	104. Grammar Nazi Harry

**Hey guys! So... I'M GOING TO ICELAND! YAY! If I have any readers in Iceland; TELL ME OF YOUR BEAUTIFUL COUNTRY! **

**But that means that I won't be updating for a few days, so I'll be back... Wednesday? Possibly Wednesday. But YAY! I'm so excited. And I'll be back on Halloween for a _spoooooky_ chapter- ooooh!**

* * *

**Harry's a Grammar Nazi, and I can't really blame him. Voldemort's too scared to even show his face (bad grammar: the power the Dark Lord knows not).**

* * *

_"harry potter,the guest of onor,sems faited thatwe met again,so Iwill destroy you" voldemort wited for potter to sit disgusted,cull out a defiant remrk,even bludy cry but. nothing. "i had to call that pathetik huffelpuff to gt you here,but it sims yet anuther person has to dye for you. more blod on your hands, eh Potter" vldemort looked at the boywholived expectantly,but he was sylent and waiving his hands around… merlin, washe having a fit. "Is he dying? Wormtail? What's hippening to him he shouted angrily, baring down with flashing eyeon his trmbling slav "m-my lord…" a trembling drarwl_

"No no no _no_ _NO_!" Harry shrieked angrily at the startled teenage girl, hands frozen over a smoking keyboard. "Where is your GRAMMAR?"

"I-I-" she stuttered.

"No! I won't _stand_ for it! I _won't_! I can understand a few typos- hell, _I_ probably even have a few in this _chapter_\- but _this_? This is a train wreck! A plane crash! A _disaster_!"

"But I just wanted-"

"Let me spell it out for you, since you seem unable to do it yourself: There. Is. A. _Space_. After. Each. _Comma_. Got it?"

"I-"

"None of this 'she said,I wish' nonsense. A _space_. A nice, clean _space_ for my eyes to rest on. And at least try to wrap your tiny little brain around the concept of using one in between words. Okay? _Honestly!_ I learnt this when I was _five_! Finger spaces, anyone?"

"Hey! I don't-"

"And for Merlin's sake, use a 'y' and an 'i' appropriately!"

"I don't really think it's important-"

"It's damn important, okay? 'Sylent' is not the same as 'silent'. 'Dye' is not the same as 'die'. They. Are. Different. Words. And sylent doesn't even make any sense."

"Sylent makes perfect sense-" she complained half-heartedly, the indignation fading away to teenage angst.

"No, it really doesn't. And you _have_ to use punctuation inside the last speech mark. No "i have" silliness, use a full stop, or a comma, or an exclamation mark! _Speaking_ of that-"

The girl groaned unintelligibly.

"When you are asking a question, use a question mark. Whether it's rhetorical or not; it's a question mark. You can't _state_ 'what is your name'? It doesn't work."

"Got it," she mumbled resignedly, daydreaming of Draco and Harry having passionate, badly written sex.

"And start a new line when a different person speaks."

"Sure."

"And mind which way you put the 'l' and the 'e' around."

"Got it."

"And try and separate your work into paragraphs. I know it might be hard to grasp that literature isn't just a steady stream of infantile consciousness, but _try_, okay? Because this might even be _good_ if I could read it without my brain melting!"

"Sure, sure. Whatever."

Harry put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a pleading, slightly desperate, look. "Try and get a beta. It may be your only hope."

"Uh huh; beta. Got it," she nodded, eyes glazed over.

"Great." Harry clapped his hands delightedly. "Now where's that My Immortal girl? I know I saw her somewhere around chapter 24…"


	105. Halloween Harry

**Hey guys! Sorry this is a day late (by my time, anyway) as I had a serious case of writer's block and a sleepover! Iceland was amazing and I had so much fun!**

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**What Harry finds in the graveyard may shock him beyond anything he's seen so far...**

* * *

"Hello?" Harry and Cedric called out hesitantly, instinctually linking pinkies as they crept through the graveyard.

There was the crack of a branch from somewhere within the inky blackness.

Harry and Cedric spun on their heels, grasping at each other's arms desperately

An eerie howl, reverberating off of cold stone.

Cedric let out a little strangled screech that caught in the back of his throat.

A low, guttered growl.

They stumbled back.

And then the figure. Slowly dragging itself forward, the silhouette cloaked in darkness grew ever nearer to the two boys. Into the light it stole, the brightness creeping up its features ever so slowly. It revealed…

Peter Pettigrew.

In a pink tutu.

With _glitter_.

Harry screamed, the sound tearing his vocal cords as he stumbled back, beating at the air in front of him. Cedric moaned in utter horror and sank to his knees weakly.

Pettigrew smiled brightly, in an unnerving manner. "I'm a fairy princess!" he squealed in a falsetto voice, adding a disturbing giggle at the end.

In unison, Harry and Cedric collapsed in a dead faint.

Pettigrew looked at them in sad befuddlement and his bottom lip wobbled. "But… I only wanted to trick or treat."


	106. Flattering Harry

**Harry should really be a life coach and Voldemort's all too happy to take his encouragement.**

* * *

"What product do you use?"

"What?" Voldemort stopped his detailed description of what he would like to do to Harry's internal organs and let an expression of befuddlement settle on his face.

"I said: what product do you use?" Harry repeated. "You know, to get your skin so alabaster and smooth?"

"Y-you think my skin is alabaster?" Voldemort stuttered. "I-I wasn't sure of the new look-"

"Are you _kidding_ me? You. Are. _Gorgeous_! And those eyes- like rubies!"

"M-my eyes?" Voldemort whispered, tears brimming.

"And your voice! That voice could bring a nun to climax, I'm telling you!"

"Thank you," Voldemort said softly and hesitantly. "I mean, people have told me that before, but since you destroyed my mortal form I think I've let myself go and my confidence has really taken a dive. My therapist said-"

"And your evil plans!" Harry declared, cutting Voldemort off before he got too morose. "So well thought out, so _concise_! I have no _idea_ why they keep failing, but stick at it! You'll get there in the end!"

A small smile began to make its way onto Voldemort's lips as he basked in the rarely-heard praise. His followers were reverent, sure, but they were never clear on what they were reverent _of_, y'know?

Harry leaned forwards conspiratorially. "I'm personally terrified of you."

"Really?" Voldemort asked hopefully.

"_Really_. One look at you and I'm trembling in my shoes! You have such a-a presence!"

The Dark Lord blushed.

"Do you know what I think?"

An answering nod.

"I think you'll make it, I really do."

"You think so?"

"Are you serious- sorry of course you're not; that's my godfather.- You'll make an _amazing_ dark lord! All that shrieking and cursing! And, of course, the slaughtering of mudbloods; I think you'll be best of all at that."

"That's what I always wanted to do…"

"And you can," Harry told him sincerely.

"Thank you," Voldemort held Harry's hand and squeezed them. "Thank you, _really_. I've been feeling a little down recently, and this was just the thing to get me back in the evil mood. So thank you."

"That's okay," Harry smiled back encouragingly. "I'm always happy to-"

And quick as lightning, Harry kneed him in the balls. Voldemort sank to the ground, clutching his crotch.

The Boy Who Lived spat on Voldemort's fallen, squealing form. "-Help."


	107. Broom Racing Harry

**Sorry it's taken me so long to update, exams are killing me. Plus I'm putting on a musical (writing the script, acting, singing and directing), which takes a surprising amount of effort, if you'd believe it.**

* * *

**Harry's into broom-racing and our favourite pair are civil.**

* * *

Voldemort stumbled back, and his hair would have been swept back if he had any. As it was, his bald head simply gleamed, like a particularly well-polished egg. He screamed in a pitch that shouldn't have been humanly possible, and his knees began to quake.

And what _caused_ that violent reaction, you may be wondering? Why, it was one Harry Potter, whizzing around that graveyard, handling his broomstick like a pro.

(Take a moment to appreciate the millions of possible innuendos that I am far too mature to put in here... And on we move.)

As Harry came to a slow stop, Voldemort collapsed to the ground, heart beating out of his chest. "What... was… _that_?" the Dark Lord gasped, desperately trying to fill his panicked lungs with air.

"That, my evil friend," Harry paused for dramatic effect and did that hair swoopy thing that all 'good-looking' boys seem to do. That irritating flicking? Yeah, that thing. "Is broom racing."

"Broom racing?" Voldemort repeated incredulously.

"Broom racing," Harry confirmed. "I think it's from Norway or wherever the hell Viktor Krum is from- most of the fandom seem to be confused. Anyway, he introduced me to it, and I think I prefer it to Quidditch. It's all to do with speed and just flying, which is the thing that attracted me to Quidditch, y'know? There are these hoops and varying levels of difficulty, and it actually accommodates for more than seven people per house, which is good."

"That actually sounds interesting and engaging," Voldemort agreed. "I'm glad you've found a hobby to distract yourself from teenage angst, as all Quidditch seemed to do was generate serious amounts of bodily injury and cause you stress. I've actually been worried about your mental health."

Harry looked surprised. "So… we're agreed? Broom racing is a positive thing? We have no problem with it? Well that's a first."

Voldemort shrugged. "The only thing I have my doubts about is the small amount of time it takes you to introduce it at Hogwarts and get the equipment, but I don't actually know how long it takes to get a sport going at a school, so I can't judge."

"True," Harry admitted.

"I do, however, take slight issue at the very limited amount of sport offered in the Wizarding World. 'The most popular sport in the Wizarding World'? What alternatives are there? Imagine how boring the world would be if we only had football. The Olympics would be short. So, yeah, I approve of the expansion of a side of the Wizarding World that JK didn't seem to take much interest in outside the context of you and your hobbies." He nodded towards Harry.

"I am in complete agreement with you. I know it's from my point of view, but even if I don't play any other sports, I should have at least heard them mentioned, or seen notices for alternative teams at school."

"So, we're in complete agreement?" Voldemort asked.

"It seems so."

There was a pause.

"This is weird," Voldemort grumbled.

"I know," Harry sighed.

"I feel like we should be at least fight about _something_," Voldemort murmured.

"Your head is too shiny?" Harry tried.

"Your muscles are too toned from an exercise which is mostly sitting down?"

"But think of horse-riding," Harry reminded him.

"Ah."

Silence.

Harry pouted. "You think they'll complain about the lack of any real substance in this one?"

"You'd think they'd be glad for a bit of positivity in this sea of endless negativity and criticism-"

"Who would?" Wormtail piped up.

The Boy Who Lived and the Lord He Lived Through both looked thoughtfully between Wormtail and the transparent glass sheet, a large sign on it labelling the obstruction: 'FOURTH WALL'.

"You think we should-"

"Nah. He'll learn soon enough."


	108. Batman Harry

**MUST READ: Hello my darlings! As we come close to the end- I HAVE REACHED 2000! YAY! And so as celebration, I'd like to do a Q&amp;A chapter. So:**

**GIVE ME YOUR QUESTIONS!**

**Questions about how long the chapters take, how I came up with certain Harrys, my favourite colour, shape- anything! (Except my age, address and personal details. Come on guys, internet safety here!)**

**So send me reviews, PMs, carrier pigeons and... yep, I think that's it. That was a depressingly short list.**

* * *

**I will say that this isn't that funny unless you've watched HISHE, and Super Cafe. Yeah, _that's_ the Batman that Harry's turned into. Arrogant 'I'm Batman' and all.**

* * *

**Harry's Batman and Voldemort has the worst bedside manner _ever_.**

* * *

"I'm going to kill you Harry Potter!"

"I'm Batman."

"Wait, what?"

"I'm Batman."

"I have literally _seen_ you getting changed into your costume. You are _Harry Potter_."

"I'm Batman."

"Harry. _Potter_."

"I'm Batman."

"Pretending you're gurgling marbles won't stop me from recognising your irritating squeal! It's very distinctive."

"I'm Batman."

"Does doing that with your voice that hurt your throat?"

"I'm Batman."

"It really can't be healthy for your vocal chords."

"I'm Batman."

"And does that rubber suit chafe?"

"I'm Batman."

"Because that's why I chose this flowing robe thing: minimal rubbing. It was either this or the leather, and I _just_ can't rock that look."

"I'm Batman."

"I'm starting to suspect that you might have some deep-rooted psychological scars from that time when I murdered your parents."

"I'm Batman."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of- most of my victims end up in St Mungos."

"I'm Batman."

"I send flowers, you know. I thought about it really hard and decided: what's not to love about Devil's Snare?"

"I'm Batman."

"Minimalistic care; it gets its own food and water; very hardy- once those vines wrap around your throat there's no _way_ you're getting out of that hold."

"I'm Batman."

"Personally, I thought it was very considerate of me. Just throw it into a cellar and it'll thrive! You don't have to _do_ anything at all! Pretty handy for the mentally insane, eh?"

"I'm Batman."

"All you need is a trained herbologist on hand to make sure it doesn't choke you… to… death- _oh_. I don't think they _have_ one of those, do they? Damn."

"I'm Batman."

"Maybe _that's_ why they don't send thank you cards. And _I_ thought they were just ungrateful!"

"I'm Batman."

"Well _fuck_. Sorry, got to run; I have to stop a certain owl order. Shit! I _knew_ I shouldn't have gone with the 1 day delivery package!"

"… I'm Batman?"


	109. Annoying Harry

**Hey guys. 2,00 reviews! WHOOP! WHOOP! And so I've decided to do this Q&amp;A, so you can find out more about me! Actually... was this a good idea? Oh Merlin no. ABORT ABORT ABORT! Phew, well I've put this on the end and combined my next chapter with the Q&amp;A to make a SUPER CHAPTER! Yay! (Plus when I put it up before it was in violation of ffnet rules. Ooops.)**

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"Hey, hey Cedric!" Harry said, sidling up to Hufflepuff. Cedric glanced down at Potter, hoping desperately that he had some information pertinent to the strange situation they had just found themselves in.

"Hey Cedric!" Harry repeated, rolling back and forth on the balls of his feet.

"What?" Cedric asked sharply, using his wand to light up the inky darkness in the… graveyard? That didn't bode well.

"Hey, hey Cedric!"

"WHAT?" he shouted, bearing down on the Gryffindor champion, his eyes flashing.

Harry sniggered. "Nice wand."

Cedric looked confused. "What in Merlin's name are you on about, Potter?"

"You know- your _wand_."

"Huh?"

"Your wand. Your thingie. Your cock-a-doodle. Your magic stick?" -the author then stopped herself from reeling off the hundreds of words that pertain to that part of the body. That part of the body that men seem to be _obsessed_ with naming. Really dudes: _Richard_?

Back to Harry: "C'mon, Cedric: even _Snape_ got it!"

"I don't understand."

Harry looked pointedly at Cedric's crotch. Cedric recoiled, spluttering. "Oh that's disgusting Potter! That's just- that's... ._Eurgh_. _No_. I am taking this portkey, and I am going back to Hogwarts! _Without_ you."

And he did.

Harry rolled his eyes. "C'mon, it was a _joke_! It was _funny_!"

A distant owl hoot.

"It _was_! Some people just can't take a-"

"_INCARCEROUS_!"

"… Hey, hey Wormtail."

"What?"

"Nice wand."

* * *

**A Brief Interlude With The Authoress**

**PS. I have been reliable informed that this is very corny, so read on at your own peril.**

* * *

_What inspired this fanfiction?_

I was reading Goblet of Fire and imagining how surprised Voldemort would have been if Harry had turned out to be a clown. Kind of random, I know. And then I was thinking about fandom tropes and common themes and I then I got the idea. I was thinking about how great it would be if someone actually wrote that, and then I realized 'I know the fandom pretty well, and I think I'm decent at writing. Let's do this!' And it turned out well, I think.

* * *

_How long does it take to write the average chapter?_

I don't think I have an average time. Some take days to write, and I bash some out in less than fifteen minutes! The Vampire one was really quick, and some take days to plan out.

* * *

_What's the process to write a chapter?_

I'll write out all the jokes or bits I want to get in first, and usually the punchline at the end. Then I'll write the bits in between, sometimes straight after or I'll leave it for a day or two. I'll send it off to my beta, then get it back with revisions and added suggestions. I either include them or not, add my AN and little description thing, and finally post!

Note from the BETA: I try my best to get back to her as quickly as possible. I feel privileged to be a part of this and often find myself laughing out loud at some of the things she wrote. One time I laughed for five straight minutes. It is really fun working on this and I thank VivyPotter for the privilege of not only helping but of learning more about British culture.

Back to Vivy: My beta, the awesome RUGoing2writethat, usually gets it back to me the next day, or even a few hours later! And his suggested jokes are awesomely fantastic.

* * *

_What's your Hogwarts house?_

I am a Ravenclaw through and through. A booky, knowledge-soaking Ravenclaw. But I like to think I'm less prejudiced than most Ravenclaws- Luna's awesome!

Note from BETA: Larry Forever!

* * *

_Where do you get the inspiration for these and do you have tumblr? If so, what's your URL?_

I think of fanfiction tropes, and have some recommended to me by my awesome readers of awesomeness.

And I don't have tumblr- I know, I should be so ashamed! I just don't have the time to work it out. I'll sit down one of these weekends and research, soon.

* * *

_What are all of your fandoms? How did you discover the awesomeness of each one?_

Gosh, all my fandoms? Let's see…

Obviously, Harry Potter. It was the book of my childhood, and me and my mum used to sit on the sofa and read it together. I still remember cuddling into her, quaking in terror, as Umbridge found Harry in her office. Seriously, I was more scared of her than I was Voldemort.

Doctor Who. David Tennant is my man. I watched my first Doctor Who episode at Christmas, the Heavenly Host one? Yeah, I didn't sleep for 6 weeks. Literally. I was so scared I started reading before bed to get my mind off it. Don't laugh- I was young(ish)! I watched all the reruns on BBC3 and then Matt Smith started playing the Doctor and Saturday night became my favourite. My phobia of angels (weeping and heavenly) continues to this day.

Buffy. I'm slowly working my ways through the series and Joss Whedon is so freaking awesome! Plus Willow is amazingly hot. So so hot.

Marvel. Every Marvel film. But especially Iron Man. Robert Downey Jr is so funny!

Sherlock. Benedict. Freaking. Cumberbatch. I was watching it when it first came on TV. I remember watching the Hounds episode with my back to a glass door looking out onto a dark garden. Not my greatest plan…

Hobbit/Lotr. I watched the films first, as I try not to, but my parents were trying to get us into them and my brother avoids books like the plague. I read the books then, was like 'oh these are awesome'! Thus began the obsession…

Glee. Don't judge me, Chris Colfer is amazing. I found Glee through YouTube covers. Many of them.

Supernatural. The only one of the 'tumblr trio' I'm not hugely into. I'm getting the box set for Christmas, so I'm not a huge fan yet (I've only streamed a few online so far). But I'm anticipating greatness.

* * *

_Will you do a similar story for any other fandom?_

No, sorry! Harry Potter is my main fandom, and so I'm planning on doing another like this on illogical stuff in the books, but not another fandom. I hardly know many of the specific tropes for others, and I haven't read enough of it to judge or do satire around. I think to safely joke without offending someone, you have to really understand something, and I just don't know any other fandom's fanfiction inside and out well enough to do a story like this, at least not on this scale.

* * *

_WHAT IS THE FOURTH WALL, PLEASE!?_

This was a question asked twice! I'm not entirely sure which way you mean it- in this fanfiction or generally? Generally it's used in theatre, but it can be used in film and literature. It's when actors interact with the audience, and it's called 'breaking the fourth wall' because actors 'break through' the imaginary fourth wall on stage, between them and the audience.

In my fanfiction, the Fourth Wall has at least a little consciousness (how much we may never know), is capable of patching itself up (for now…) and looks suspiciously like a computer screen. Do with that what you will.

* * *

_Which HISHE (How It Should Have Ended) is your favourite?_

I'm gonna have to say Harry Potter, because I'm boring (or Batman, take your pick). "Honey Badgers just takes what it wants!"

* * *

_how long have you been watching HISHE videos?_

Um, since I started watching YouTube videos? Maybe... four years ago?

* * *

_Have you ever thought of doing accompanying stories, like the many Ginnys of the Chamber of Secrets or something?_

I have, but I don't think I'd have enough unique material to make it work.

* * *

_What are your actual thoughts on some of the tropes you parodied? _

I actually love most of the stories in these chapters! On the Gringotts one, people were like 'I'm not a lawyer and I love these stories', but so do I! It's only because I love them so much that I can point out so many patterns. Except for Snarry, I freakin' hate Snarry.

* * *

_Have you ever written a novel or story that wasn't fanfiction?_

Yes, but I don't think I've completed any, except obviously short stories in school and for competitions.

* * *

_Have you ever done NaNoWriMo?_

I don't even know what it is!... And now I do (just looked it up). I'll check that out, thanks!

* * *

_Do you like dogs?_

Not really. One bit me as a child and I'm kind of scared of them.

* * *

_Do you have any pets? (Sub-question: are you more of a dog person or a cat person?)_

I am a cat person (see above question). And I do have a cat; a gorgeous Siamese/Oriental crossbreed called Tigger.

* * *

_How do you come up with this kind of thing? How do you always make it so funny?_

The first question is answered above (somewhere), and the answer to the second? My usually-abrasive-and-insulting-to-most dry, critical brand of humour comes across really well on the internet. No, no. Actually, in real life, I'm not that hilarious. People usually say something and I'll plan out this whole conversation in my head where it ends with a totally awesome punchline by me. Unfortunately, people don't tend to follow these planned-out conversations, some nonsense about 'free will' gets in the way. Plus the fact that I burst out laughing at these in-my-head scenarios in the middle of discussions makes me seem kind of deranged, instead of the comical genius I am. Pity.

* * *

_Who are your five favourite Harrys?_

Sherlock Harry (There's just something so fun about writing deductions! I can see why Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss do it!)

Vampire Harry (Short but sweet. And very easy and stress-free to write!)

Female Harry (I have a soft spot for little BAMF Harry. She's just so impossibly perfect!)

Rapper Harry (Writing the raps was so fun. Like poetry, and I love writing poetry.)

Fandom Harry (I can relate so hard.)

* * *

_What is your sexual orientation/sexuality?_

I don't know ;) I'm young(ish) and free, so plenty of time for 'finding myself'. If I had to say now, I guess I'd say... bi?

* * *

_Who is your best friend?_

That would be RubyPeters, even if I hate her sometimes. A lot. An awful lot. Whenever I get embarrassed, she always points out 'hey, you're going red!' like it's the most hilarious thing in the world. 'Gee, thanks Rube. I had no idea! Aaaand now I'm blushing harder. Thanks. Really.'

* * *

_How long have you been writing fanfiction? Also do you have a fiction press account?_

About a year, I'd say, but I've been reading for about five. I wrote a few back then, but never posted them, and I wince to read them now. You know those awful things where every block of text is broken up by inserted author's notes? And there's a link to the outfit they're wearing inserted slap bang in the middle? And every character is like the same person? Yeah, it was one of those.

I don't have a fiction press. I tried to get into it, but I have a much smaller tolerance for grammar mistakes and awful characterization in original fiction than I do fanfiction, and fiction press tests that. A lot. Plus I have serious issues with committing to writing my own stuff. I mean, I do it, but I have like 40 unfinished stories in my dropbox, and I'm never gonna complete a single one. Oops.

* * *

**So I hope you enjoyed that and if not: who the hell not? I'm amazing!**

**I have a question for you guys now: how did you find my stories/story?**


	110. Severitus Harry

**For any of you AVPM fans, I've written an AVPM fanfiction called 'Scarfy and Sorty's Magical Marriage'. It's crack-ish, and (supposed to be) funny, so check that out.**

**Also, my dear beta RUGoing2writethat has recently written chapter 10 of their Multi-Verse drabbles, and guess what it's based on? Chapter 35, the dreaded 'Umbridge!Harry'. They've chosen to expand a bit on what they believe caused Harry to turn into that awful monster, so take the time to read that!**

**Anyway, on with the chapter! *sniff sniff* The second to last chapter...**

* * *

**Severitus? It's a horrifying thing, and Voldemort can't quite wrap his head around it.**

* * *

"You know, Voldie," Harry remarked casually, leaning back against the gravestone. "You made a big mistake bringing me here tonight."

"And why's that Potter?" Voldemort sneered, glaring down at him with ruby eyes..

"Because do you know who's going to be showing up in a minute?"

"Who Potter? Dumbledore? Because I can guarantee he has no idea-"

"No- not Dumbledore." Harry took a deep breath and paused dramatically. "My father."

"What? Now you're delusional as _well_ as annoying. James Potter is dead, I killed him myself."

"No, not that pathetic idiot who sacrificed his life for me. My _true_ father; the one who's spent the last four years belittling and bullying me and my classmates, traumatising them permanently, so much so that their worst fear is his anger. My father; the one who for years prior to that abandoned me to my abusive relatives, waiting with full knowledge that I was his flesh and blood and my aunt is a jealous bitch. My father; the _hero_."

Snape appeared in a flash of lightning, a crash of thunder, and a flutter of... bats? "Hello, my lord," he greeted a gasping Voldemort. Then he went to hug Harry, enfolding him in a loving embrace. "Hello, my darling boy," he murmured softly.

"Hey dad," Harry whispered back. They smiled at each other, united in a loving movement of familial joy.

The Dark Lord gaped. "But… you…. and… boy… but- you look exactly like James Potter!"

"A mere glamour potion, to disguise my true self." Harry declared. As if by magic (and it was), the disguise melted away, leaving in Harry's place a miniature Snape, except cute and gorgeous.

"But… how did-?" Voldemort struggled to wrap his head around the concept.

"I slept with Lily," Snape explained, "Even though there was never any sign that she felt anything other than platonic love, and just decided to sleep with me because she was drunk, which, if you think about it, is technically rape, as she had no inhibitions..."

"But he... he- he hates you!" Voldemort objected.

"Don't be silly!" Harry scolded. "It took nothing more than a "Harry, I am your father" to dissipate years of resentment. I love him now, like a son should love a father. Despite the fact that he abandoned me to the Dursleys."

"I've apologized for that! No one could know that we were related!" Snape clutched Harry closer to him.

"Why was that again?"

"…Because it would dirty Lily's name?"

"But couldn't you say that you adopted me out of obligation to your dearest friend?"

"I couldn't let the Dark Lord know that I'm actually a fluffy bunny under all this grease!" Snape argued, but with love evident in every word he spoke.

"You could say you were under Dumbledore's orders?!" Harry shouted, affect clear in every action.

"I couldn't- someone might have found out!" Snape gasped.

"You're right," Harry admitted. "I forgive you for everything. I love you!"

"I love you too!" Snape replied.

Voldemort looked slightly green. He gestured vaguely behind him. "I'm just going to… go. Yes; go, that's it. Goodbye!" he took off sprinting. "Save yourself Wormtail! Don't let them smother you with the Severitus- it sounds quite like a disease, doesn't it?!"

"Yes, my lord!" Wormtail scurried after him, with a quick, "LARRY FOREVER!"

Snape and Harry were left alone, still in a tight hug.

"So, where are we going now dad?" Harry asked eagerly. "Because now I've discovered that you're my father, the disrespect that you previously punished me for has disappeared, and I am now a good, obedient son. Let's escape Britain, and I shall respect your opinions and take your decisions into account in a totally OOC manner!"

"Don't worry son, I'll allow you the freedom a teenager needs to flourish into a healthy human being, whilst still maintaining a good father-son relationship with you." Snape laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. "And I think we'll go to Forks."

"Why?" Harry asked, still smiling.

"Why, to escape the Dark Lord, of course! And because I've heard that there are some pretty hunky vampires over there whom I'm totally fine with you dating…" Snape winked suggestively.

"Thanks dad- you're the best! Let's go amaze the people of Forks with our Britishness, magic and sudden beauty!"

"Indeed son! I'll get the state-of-the-art modern car that I somehow know how to drive!"

"Great!"


	111. Oscars Harry

**So this is it guys; this final showdown. I'm actually getting quite emotional now. You have all been incredible, incredible people and I love every single one of you. The support and encouragement that you've offered me is ****phenomenal, and I actually couldn't have asked for a nicer bunch of readers. I adore you all. You've stuck with me through all 111 chapters, and I don't think I could have done it without your amazing comments to wake up to. Again, I love every single one of you, and thank you.**

**Vivy out.**

* * *

When Lord Voldemort stepped out of his limo, he looked rather confused. It's understandable, of course; not many people expect to leave Severitus and arrive on a red carpet, but you do have to admit to being a little disappointed. Surely as a Dark Lord he'd be able to… _improvise_, a little? Go with the flow? I mean, those megalomaniacal speeches are incredible! Surely he could have taken some of that drama, that _pizzazz_, and put it towards looking less like a goldfish?

Anyway, the point is; he _didn't_, and fared terribly when faced with the flashing of multiple cameras and the cries of:

"This way, Mr Voldemort!"

"Over here, Dark Lord!"

"Smile for the camera, your Highness!"

With spots of black popping in his vision, waving his arms wildly, Voldemort stumbling back.

Right into the path of another limo, drawing up at the curb.

_SQUISH!_

Well, that was quick.

You'd think I'd have a better, less 'I don't know how to get rid of this dude so let's squash him like a bug' ending for the Darkest Lord To Have Ever Lived.

I'm disappointed in myself. Ah well, on with the story.

Promptly, there came the traumatised yell of "MY LORD!" followed by, "LARRY!" as Wormtail transformed and scampered down a drain, into the sewers. He does have a habit of doing that. I don't know if he was ever cured of his disturbing, rather random Larry addiction, but I like to think he came across Therapist!Harry at some point, and managed to sort his life out. I've really grown quite fond of that little guy.

Anyhoo, out of the limo stepped…

Harry Potter.

And then another limo. And another Harry Potter.

And another.

And another.

They streamed, seemingly endlessly- all 110 of them.

"Mr Potter!"

"Harry, over here please!"

"Can I speak to you?"

"I WANT YOUR AUTOGRAPH!"

"I LOVE YOU!"

And with that, welcome, to The Many Harry Potters of Little Hangleton equivalent of… the Oscars.

Cue dramatic music and expensive graphic intro.

* * *

Inside the building the Harrys took their seats, with a minimal amount of grumbling and popcorn-stealing.

Plothole!Harry leaned towards Turtle!Harry conspiratorially. "I'd just like to point out a plothole in at least half the chapters in this fanfiction."

"What?"

"Well in quite a few, one of us Harrys turns up and Voldemort is already fully resurrected. Whose blood did he use?"

"Artistic license," VivyPotter snapped as she pushed past him, her expression dark.

Plothole!Harry held up his hands defensively. "I'm just saying; I was created solely to point out flaws in JK's logic. It's rather hypocritical of you to get defensive when I do the same to you."

"No one bloody noticed!" Vivy rolled her eyes. "They were too busy finding me hilarious."

"Someone did." Plothole!Harry reminded her mildly. Vivy's expression darkened and she clapped her hands. The offending Harry disappeared with a crash of thunder and a pained shriek.

"_I'm_ the author," she muttered petulantly, shoving her way past shocked Harrys on her way to the stage.

She marched up the stairs, stomped across the stage, and stood in front of the microphone, looking rather bored. "Hello and welcome to you sad, lonely people who have nothing better to do than read my pathetic ramblings. And of course, greetings to the two-dimensional walking stereotypes who have nothing better to do than _appear_ in them. It's my 'pleasure' to announce the British series' fanfiction equivalent to an American award, for some reason."

A round of enthusiastic clapping.

"Yay," Vivy said sarcastically. "Okay, let's kick this thing off quickly. Hopefully I can finish early and get onto the booze I've been promised…" She produced a set of golden cue cards. "Okay, first off, award for the cleverest chapter… I'm going Rapper!Harry. Raps are hard to write! I have a new respect for Snoopie Dogg or however you spell his ridiculous name."

"With any logic, I should have won that," Sherlock!Harry complained.

VivyPotter held up her hands threateningly. "Are you disagreeing with me?"

Sherlock!Harry scoffed. "It's impossible to erase someone from existence completely with the simple clap of one's hands."

"What do you think happened to your friend then?" Vivy narrowed her eyes.

"A mere illusion," Harry replied.

"Shove off."

Sherlock!Harry raised his eyebrows, unimpressed. "I find your grasp of the English language inspiring," he drawled sarcastically.

"And I repeat: shove off." Vivy smiled falsely. "Next the award for the chapter that pissed the most people off, and wasn't that _fun_… Female!Harry. Unfortunately she's had to sneak off with PMSing!Harry to do... something. I don't know what; I suspect snog. That's incest, if you think about it... huh. Anyway, back onto the award. I got a really long, well-written criticism detailing my hypocrisy and general awfulness- thanks dude! And you even made it anonymous review so I couldn't reply and say that _no_, I _don't_ hate all Harry/Voldemort. There are some beautiful, beautiful stories written in that pairing which I read frequently- 'Schooled' being one of them. So no, I don't hate all Harry/Voldemort fanfictions, but thank you for reading, really." VivyPotter took a deep breath. "Phew. I have a lot of pent-up aggression, and unfortunately I can't take _all_ of it out on my brother. Onto the next thingy.

"The hardest chapter to write? Let's see… I'm a genius, so clearly none of them were _too_ challenging… Ah yes, Salesman!Harry. That one didn't have much of a point and was kind of rubbish- or was it CrazyCatLady!Harry? Keeping track of all those names… I'll say it was both. A draw, then. Stick around- I'll punch you both later.

"And the award for the most fashionable Harry goes to… well, isn't _this_ a shocker. Dumbledore!Harry."

Dumbledore!Harry took to the stage slowly, proudly wearing his salmon pink robes with canary trim. He tapped the microphone and cleared his throat. "Mm hm. I'd just like to say: if you lose the path of light, all it takes is love to guide you to your destiny. Oh, and hoitus toitus coitus roitus. Oh and-"

"Okay," VivyPotter pushed him out of the way, and he felt to the floor. "We're done with that. As much as we'd like to listen to your nonsensical 'wise' speeches that fangirls everywhere will learn by heart- and was that a 'coitus' snuck in their somewhere?- we're on a tight schedule-"

"I object!" Flamboyant!Harry declared, clambering to his feet.

VivyPotter stared at him blankly. "You _what_?"

"_Object_! I am _clearly_ the best-dressed in this room! Look at this bag; Prada! This is a Prada bag!" He shook his accessory wildly, and gestured towards Dumbledore!Harry's outfit derogatorily. "That tatty old thing looks like it came from a second-hand shop in the most run-down corner of the most run-down town in the world! A blind old lady would refuse to wear it! Lady _Gaga_ would refuse to wear it!"

Hufflepuff!Harry stood up. "Now, that's not very nice, is it? I personally think that it's a very flattering shape-"

"Sit down, Jiggleypuff," Flamboyant!Harry growled, and the Hufflepuff took his seat with a disapproving huff.

Vivy sighed. "Okay sparkles, sit down."

Flamboyant Harry. "But-"

"No. You're basically a walking stereotype. You don't get to complain. Now sit the fuck down and read some muscle magazines or something."

Flamboyant!Harry reluctantly took his seat, and Vivy nodded in satisfaction. "Now, the award for the most… colourful Harry? (Wow, we're really running dry here) And that goes to… Blind!Harry!"

There was an uncomfortable muttering and shifting as everyone in the room looked at everywhere but the winner.

VivyPotter looked stubbornly oblivious. There was a cough from somewhere and Vivy looked reluctantly offstage, "_What_? Of course it wasn't _insensitive_! How could it be- ah, yes. I see. That could be interpreted- but surely no one's that sensi- I have to apologise? Jeez, if it's really that bad." She turned back to the audience. "_Apparently_, we're sorry for giving you an award. And now you won't be receiving this rather magnificent rainbow scarf," Vivy held the prize aloft. "Shame. Okay, so now the creepiest chapter goes to…"

There was no tension as everyone in the room turned to stare at the inevitable winner, who looked offended.

"It's Snarry Harry," VivyPotter rolled her eyes. "We all knew it was happening. Just come up and claim your trophy then get the hell off my stage."

Snarry!Harry stumbled up the steps, cowering slightly under the glares. He took the plastic model of Gollum, but before he walked off, he leaned into the microphone. "I'd just like to say, Severus is my father and my lover, and I see nothing wrong with that."

VivyPotter shoved him away from her disgustedly. "Just get the fuck off. I'd just like to say that my hatred for you rivals that of my despise for Umbridge-"

"WHAT DID YOU SAY ABOUT MY MOTHER?" Umbridge!Harry shrieked, getting to his feet and lunging at Vivy-

"Oh won't someone rid me of this troublesome Harry?" VivyPotter asked disinterestedly, rolling her eyes.

"Avada Kedavra!" Came the shout, and Umbridge!Harry crumpled to the ground, head lolled back lifelessly.

"Thanks," VivyPotter nodded. "I was just making a historical reference, but… whatever, I guess."

Hufflepuff!Harry gave a wave of acknowledgement, grinning cheerfully as he took his seat.

"Nerd," Rapper!Harry growled.

Hufflepuff!Harry whipped around with his teeth bared. "You don't mess with the Honey Badger and the Honey Badger don't mess with you, got it?"

Rapper!Harry shrunk back and let out a sort of shrill scream in agreement. Satisfied, the Hufflepuff turned around, a dangerous look on his face, "'Cause I don't give a shit."

"Okay, pants on dudes, and the most popular chapter?" VivyPotter opened the envelope and raised her eyebrows at the content. "Apparently, we couldn't find the statistics so… I'm going go with Salazar!Harry, what the fuck. I feel like that had a good reception and I can't be bothered to count the reviews. So here's your little star sticker here… oh. You can't move because of your- your back? Your back's gone? Bad luck old man, okay, I'll just throw it…" VivyPotter attempted a half-hearted throw, and the sticker fluttered to the ground somewhere around Homeless!Harry, who picked it up and stuck it onto his tattered coat.

"Sorry about that," Vivy shrugged carelessly. "Okay, longest chapter to write? Let's see…"

Plothole!Harry, Shakespearian!Harry and Sherlock!Harry held their breath.

"It's Sherlock!Harry. You wouldn't believe the fucking amount of time it took to work out those deductions. Of course it called for a lot of research which I'm not complaining about…"

"You should be reading!" Ravenclaw!Harry yelled.

"Piss off. And finally, who gets the last chapter named after them? It's kinda obvious if you look at the setup, but hey. Okay, opening of the envelope, tension and all that, drumroll please- it's Oscars!Harry."

A round of reluctant applause echoed through The Many Harry Potters of Little Hangleton.

"He hasn't even done a chapter, the bitch," Flamboyant!Harry huffed, throwing his scarf over his shoulder dramatically.

"I know," Marauder!Harry narrowed his eyes. "I'm getting him with the canary creams after this, Siri will help."

"I'm killing him, slowly and viciously with copious amounts of torture," Dark!Harry growled, fingering his basilisk fang wand darkly.

"Darling, weren't you busy duelling that former hunk?" Flamboyant!Harry asked, fiddling with his pink nail varnish.

"He didn't stand a chance against Dark Lord Potter."

"Mmm, right. If you say so, sweetie." Flamboyant!Harry leaned back doubtfully.

"Slytherin," Marauder!Harry muttered mutinously, glaring at the young 'Dark Lord Potter'.

"No, that would be me, you prejudiced Gryffindor." Slytherin!Harry hissed.

"Oscars!Harry?" VivyPotter called again impatiently.

Oscars!Harry stumbled on the steps to the stage and giggled nervously, "Oh look; just pulled a Jennifer Lawrence."

VivyPotter rolled her eyes. "Yeah I know, you're adorably down to earth. Just like any regular girl! Just get onto this stage and do your speech so I can get out of here."

"Oh my god, I won! I can't believe I won! Oh my Merlin, the last chapter!" Harry fluttered his hand over his heart as he struggled for breath. "Okay, I have so many people to thank. Er, I'd like to dedicate at least three chapters to VivyPotter, for writing a lot. Seriously, there's like 100 pages on Word of this thing. And I don't want to praise myself or anything, but you're awesome, you go VivyPotter!"

"Thanks, you're so generous," VivyPotter sneered.

"Next, the reviewers, who have supported me through thick and thin, through flames and camping. I'd just like to say I love you guys. Every single one of you! Okay? But there are some names that are so familiar and I see a review from you guys and I just know that you'll have something awesome to say and it just brightens my day. I'm gonna say a few that are very close to my heart here, but I just want to know that every review brightens my day, even if it's just a 'update soon', or a long detailed answer to some of my points.

"First off, Extended Experience. I swear you've reviewed almost every one of my stories, never mind chapters. I had so much fun in that time where I imagined you going through my stories on a spree, which would be awesome. Plus your icon is awesome. TURTLE!"

"Evanescentfacade, I love Evanescence, and even though it's not your name (as I thought when I first saw it), you should really check it out. Anyway, thank you so much for your support and comments!

"Patronus12, that little –Breeze thing you do at the end of each review that has nothing to do with your name gets me every time. I don't know if it's your real name (if so, awesome parents right there) or your signature, but just… urgh! And your reviews are amazing- love you girl! Wormtail will meet you in therapy anyday.

"Shadewatcher- I think you've reviewed every single chapter, actually. Even when they're just a few words they're filled with wonderfulness (not harmed by the fact that you have a freakin' llama as your avatar).

"Axel Treehorn. You don't even have an account and I still think you're awesome. You review almost every chapter, and best of all you FIND the AVPM references. You're just megafoxyawesomehot!

"Theta-McBride- is the first thing a reference to The Doctor's nickname? I always like to think it is. Of course, it could be the eighth letter of the Greek alphabet…

"ChaoticallyAwkward, you reviewed most of my early chapters, and I don't know if you're still reading, but if you are, thank you so much!

"TimeWolfSaphira, I also always think of your name as a Doctor Who reference, seriously, I see them everywhere. I've just got onto reading your fanfictions- Hobbit and Doctor Who? Love them already!

"Katzztar- I think you've written the longest review, which was awesome. When I was a young naïve author (I've changed so much, sniff sniff), I was so excited to receive a long, review telling me that some agreed with my point of view! I was still kinda shy to bring out the full satire and bashing that I enjoy so much and you really boosted my confidence. Without you, the Snarry chapter might never have happened. Thank you!

"I-HATE-HAPPY-PEOPLE. Me too, man. Me too.

"Timefreak- I swear one day I'll do a crack!fic! I might do one soon with a logical/sarcastic Harry entering the Wizard World, so, yeah, stick around. Your reviews and fanfiction are awesome and I shall miss your constant reviews.

"Dragonsrule18. We've exchanged a lot of private messages and I really feel like I know you… well, your cats anyway. Don't let them scratch your face off! Virtual friends forever! Kisses!

"Oh, I'm running out of time- okay. Thanks also to ptl4ever419, Deep Forest Green, self, Dearest Destiny, xxMockingbirdxxx, Arrow Riddari, and einbrecher! There are so many others, but it's really hard choosing just a few-"

Harry strained against the security guards as he was dragged off towards the stage exits. "Thanks also to RUGoing2writethat! You were my beta and without you, my chapters would have made little sense! I love you!"

"Yes, yes, we get it." VivyPotter rolled her eyes as she shooed him off the stage. "You love everyone, blah blah, sob sob. Sheesh, that was soppy! And corny. We done yet? We are? Good. Bye suckers."

"I'M ALIVE!" MasterOfDeath!Harry shouted triumphantly.

"WE KNOW!" came the exasperated chorus.

"Severus would die for me," Snarry!Harry simpered.

BANG!

All heads turned to Squib!Harry and his smoking gun.

"What?" He asked, shrugging helplessly. "We all bloody hated him."

There was a murmured consensus of "We did", "It's true", "I always wanted to stick a shuriken in his face".

Finally, one lone drunkard stood, his legs trembling underneath his own weight and a stupid grin on his face. He thrust a bottle at the fourth wall and bellowed, "LET'S GET FUCKING PISSED!"

And the fourth wall smashed to the floor, a mess of jagged edges and sticky tape. "Don't wake me up for the next story," it groaned, and grew still. I don't know what happened to that poor, defeated wall, and it haunts me to this day. But just in case-

_'R.I.P_

_Fourth Wall._

_Sorry About That.'_


	112. In Which I Ruin The Beauty Of 111

Harry sat on a bench, the wind blowing dramatically through his hair. He wore a bashful smile on his face as he waved sheepishly. "Er, hi. Vivy's kinda messed up the beautiful repetition of 111, so oops. But I thought you should know about the kind-of sequel she has up? It's called Those Time Where You Just Thought 'Huh', and it looks at logic (or lack thereof) in the Harry Potter books. Since you guys so enjoyed this, I thought I should... inform you... about... it."

"Hey Potter!" came the snakish hiss. "Why are you so behaving so awkwardly pathetic? And I mean more so than usual."

Harry sent the Dark Lord a baleful glare. "I'm just trying to get into this whole 'fanfiction' thing again. It's been a while since I've appeared in one of these chapters, and my 11-year-old self has taken over in the new-"

Voldemort sat beside Harry eagerly. "Oh! I love the new fanfiction! Have you read it? It's amazing! Not meaning to blow my own trumpet or anything but the humour-"

Harry interrupted him. "Hang on- weren't you dead?"

Voldemort gave him an empty gaze. "Killjoys never die."

Harry gulped. "Oh. Right. So where's Wormtail these days?"

"Didn't you hear? Shacked up with that therapist, didn't he?"

"Oh. Well that's a disturbing thought."

"Tell me about it. I think they're getting married in June."

"Wow. Good for him."

"Mmm. He's invited Lovegood and you for a double wedding."

"Oh. Well I'd better go. Got to get to Hawaii before the invitations arrive."

"Sensible plan. Goodbye Potter."

"Bye!"


End file.
